


Birthright and Inheritance

by Elisha_Boltagon, steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb



Series: Blue [4]
Category: Inhumans (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-04-08 00:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14093382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisha_Boltagon/pseuds/Elisha_Boltagon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb/pseuds/steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb
Summary: Six years after Maximus descended once more into insanity, life has been relatively calm for the Boltagon and Adams' families. However, old resentments are beginning to resurface, and their troubles are not yet done. These past six years may have been the calm before the storm... Part 4 of Blue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Birthright and Inheritance**

* * *

 

**Chapter One**

* * *

 

Verna Adams stifled a sigh as she made the now-familiar walk into her daughter's school, a large comprehensive that taught first grade through to twelfth, nodding tersely at the receptionist as she signed the visitor's book, then heading for the staff lounge where all these informal discussions had been carried out. At first, she had admired the brightly painted walls and the examples of children's schoolwork, displayed proudly every few meters, but after five previous visits here, the scenery had lost its charm. And this was only Maeve's third _week_  in first grade.

Verna fought the urge to scowl as she entered the staff lounge, and Ms Blake, Maeve's class teacher, gave her a condescending smile. Maeve herself was sitting cross-legged on the floor, face buried in a book that was almost too large for her little hands. Verna craned her neck to see, and she half shook her head, lips curving in a smile. It was the 'Lord of the Rings', bound into one volume. Norm had just finished reading 'The Hobbit' as Maeve's latest bedtime story, and apparently their daughter wanted to know what happened next. Sitting in the chair behind Maeve, Verna smoothed her daughter's hair, and was rewarded with a smile, before the six-year-old returned her gaze to the book.

Verna then gave Ms Blake her full attention. "I came as soon as I could when the secretary called me." Verna held the older woman's gaze. "What, exactly, happened today?"

Ms Blake sniffed, looking down her nose at Verna. "As you know, Maeve has already caused quite a few disruptions in lessons since she started here, and I am sad to say things are not improving. She continually got up and disturbed the other students this morning, during our Math lesson, instead of sitting quietly and working as I told her."

"I _did_  do my work," Maeve's little voice sounded, plaintively. "I finished my worksheet and didn't have nothing else to do."

Verna narrowed her eyes at Ms Blake. "I believe my husband and I explained, before this school year began, that Maeve is a bright girl, and might prove more advanced than others her age. The principal assured us that additional work could be provided if necessary."

Ms Blake sniffed. "I don't believe in singling students out, Mrs Adams. When I was at school, all children were treated the same, regardless of how 'bright' they were." She looked down at Maeve. "Besides, no matter if you had finished your work or not, you should have done as I asked and stayed in your seat."

"I was only helping the others." Maeve protested.

Ms Blake waved this aside dismissively. Verna fumed silently. She was liking this woman less and less. "Is this why I was called in today?"

"No, Mrs Adams. Sadly, that wasn't the only incident today. After recess, it was time for the children to have some reading time. I let them choose their own books, as a treat. Maeve, however, refused to choose any of the books from the reading corner and simply left the room when I asked her to find a book. I had to follow, naturally, and caught up with her in the library, to find her brazenly going through books that only the staff and high-school students are permitted to read. She refused to give the book up, told me that all the books in our classroom- that I picked out personally- were too 'boring' and she could already read all those words."

"But I can!" Maeve sounded near tears, her lip wobbling as the adults looked at her. "I just wanted something _fun_  to read, Mommy!"

"Ssh," Verna soothed. "It'll be OK, pumpkin." Really, she thought, she and Norm should have anticipated trouble like this. Maeve had been reading, writing and doing sums by the age of two and a half (though she'd always looked slightly older than her age, due to her Inhuman blood). Kindergarten, as it had been more focused on games than academics, hadn't been too bad. But they should have known Maeve would struggle to concentrate as the other first graders learned things she'd mastered years ago. How was she supposed to thrive in school if (it appeared) her teacher had already labelled her a troublemaker and wouldn't even try and accommodate her needs?

Ms Blake's scoff as she watched mother and daughter, and her barely audible mutter of 'coddling' was the final straw for Verna. She stood up abruptly.

"Come on, Maeve, I think we're going home now." Maeve stood up obediently, taking Verna's hand. Verna glared at Ms Blake over Maeve's head. "I suppose I should thank you for your honesty. I will discuss this with my husband, but I'm almost certain we will be making alternate arrangements for Maeve's education. I suggest you start considering the individual needs of your students, or I suspect we won't be the only parents to take this course of action. Come on, Maeve, give the book back to Ms Blake and we'll leave."

Maeve solemnly handed the book over, though her brown eyes were wistful. "I'm sorry I made you mad, Ms Blake."

The woman didn't even deign to reply, merely sniffing disdainfully. Verna was seething inwardly as she led Maeve away. As they left the school and began the four-block walk home, her anger cooled and she sighed. Taking Maeve out of public school might have been the best idea, she felt sure Norm would agree, but with her daughter's intelligence level so far beyond her age, how could they get her an education without drawing unwanted attention to their little family? Six years ago, when they'd adopted Maeve as an infant, they'd given the Boltagons their word that Maeve's true heritage would remain a secret, for the child's own sake. Her biological father, the unstable Inhuman royal Maximus, had given up all claim to her during a lucid spell, but he hadn't been seen since, as far as the Adams were aware. He (or one of his many enemies) could pose a threat to Maeve if they knew who she was, so secrecy had prevailed since her adoption. Sending Maeve to private school, or having her skip a few grades, would only draw attention to her, which was the last thing anyone needed.

"Mommy?" Maeve broke into Verna's trip down memory lane, big brown eyes peering up at her.

"Yes, honey?"

"Am I really not going back to school?"

"Not that school, baby, I don't think. I'm not sure it's the right place for you."

"Oh." Maeve frowned. "Will you or Daddy teach me?"

"Maybe, we'll see." Verna smiled reassuringly at her daughter. Homeschooling? It was an idea. It might work for a while, but if Maeve kept learning as insatiably as she had so far, she'd be too smart for them to teach before too long. It certainly wasn't a permanent solution...

"If I'm off school today, can we go see Daddy at church?" Maeve beamed at the thought, as she loved seeing Daddy at work.

Verna laughed softly. As clever as Maeve was, in some ways, her attention span was just like any other six year old's- problems never worried her for very long. "I don't think so, honey. Daddy's probably on his way home by now."

Maeve nodded sagely. "Cos church meetings don't take all day, do they, Mommy?"

"No, they don't."

"Can I be a priest like Daddy when I grow up?"

"If you want. It'll be a long time before you're grown up though, you'll have a long time to decide what you want to be."

"Daddy says I'm growing up too fast, an' he wants me to stay little. Why?"

"I think he's just worried you'll get too big to have cuddles with him."

Maeve shook her head, blonde hair flying into her face. "I'll never be too big for hugs!" To prove it, she threw her arms round Verna's legs, hugging her tightly. "Love you, Mommy!"

Verna hugged her back, feeling her heart swell with love, and, as she had often over these past few years, thanked God for giving her and Norm this little angel, even as she felt a pang of sadness for Maeve's deceased birth mother, and her troubled father. "Love you too, sweetheart."

Maeve took Verna's hand again and they made their way home, chatting happily about nothing in particular. As Verna had thought, Norm had beaten them home. As soon as they got into their apartment, Maeve gave her father her usual greeting: flinging herself into his arms and squealing with delight as he tossed her into the air and then pretended to fail to catch her, before hugging her close. Verna laughed at this performance, as always. Norm didn't seem surprised to see them, though the school day was far from over. "You got my text, then?" she murmured as he stepped closer, shifted Maeve to one side and kissed Verna tenderly (ignoring Maeve's aggrieved 'Yuck!')

"Mm-hm. I guess we should have figured it'd come to this." Norm stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Little monkey here," he tickled Maeve, making her squirm and giggle, "Is _much_  too smart for regular first grade, aren't you?" Verna appreciated his trying to keep this light-hearted, for Maeve's sake, but she caught his eyes, trying to communicate her earlier concern without Maeve catching on. His gaze was steady, however, reassuring. Kissing the top of Maeve's head, he set her down, crouching to be at her level. "Go take your shoes off and wash your hands, and then you can help Mommy and me cook dinner, if you want."

"Yay!" Maeve loved cooking and preparing food. She scampered off without another word. Verna watched her go, then turned to Norm, feeling vaguely suspicious, but he was smiling.

She shook her head. "Why do I have a feeling you've already thought of a solution to this education issue?"

Norm grinned. "Guilty as charged. Well, it's not a solution so much as an idea." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know we've discussed how we could let Medusa, Black Bolt, Pope and the others see Maeve more often, without making it obvious?"

"Yes..." Verna trailed off, not seeing where this was going.

"Well, I was texting Pope- Ahura," Norm corrected himself, "a few days ago, and he told me that Medusa and... Black Bolt's father, what's his name-"

"Agon."

"Yes- they've been teaching the twins themselves. I wondered... I know the twins are older than Maeve, but maybe... maybe other Inhumans might be better suited to teaching Maeve. At least, they might be able to give that brain of hers some exercise."

Verna considered it. "So what, we tell the Board of Education that Maeve's being homeschooled, and then take her to lessons with the twins? Would that work? I mean, would she actually get an education that qualifies her for anything in the human world?"

"I'm sure we could work something out. I think they'd agree to just about anything if it meant more contact with Maeve." Norm put his hand on her shoulder. "Let's face it, she's our daughter, but she's also Black Bolt's niece, Agon's granddaughter. She might never know it, but Medusa and Black Bolt only seeing her briefly, once or twice a month, when she has play-dates with the twins, isn't fair. And Agon's hardly ever seen her at all."

Verna sighed. "You're right, I know, they deserve to know her too, but what if Ma-"

"If that happens, you _know_  they'd warn us. And he hasn't been seen in years, not since poor Mara- hey, Maeve!" Norm broke off abruptly, pulling a smile onto his face as she darted back into the room. "Those hands all squeaky-clean?"

She nodded, holding her (damp) palms out for inspection. "Yep! What we making for dinner?"

"Hmm. Mommy, what do you think?" Norm held Verna's gaze, putting enough inference in the words so that she knew he wasn't just asking about tonight's meal, but about his plan for Maeve's schooling. She mulled it over- really, what could go wrong? If Medusa and Agon agreed, they (and Black Bolt, and Ahura, and the twins) would have a proper chance to get to know Maeve, _and_  their little girl would get an education. Nodding as the idea affixed itself in her mind, she smiled at Maeve.

"I think we should have meatloaf tonight. Does that sound good, honey?"

"Yeah! And we can have ice cream for dessert, right, Daddy?" Maeve turned puppy-dog-eyes on her father, knowing he rarely denied her anything. Verna rolled her eyes good-naturedly as Norm nodded, then swept Maeve up onto his shoulders, making her shriek with laughter, then cling to his hair until she got her balance.

"To the kitchen, then, my lady?" He asked in a mock-serious voice. "We must embark on a quest to locate the ice-cream, and the ingredients for our fine supper!" He strode into the kitchen, Maeve's high-pitched laughter pealing as they walked. Laughing to herself at how big a goof her husband was where their daughter was concerned, Verna took out her cell to call Medusa. She was almost certain Medusa would be thrilled at being able to tutor Maeve, as would Agon, but arrangements- times and days- would obviously need to be worked out. Verna chewed her lip as the phone rang, half listening to Maeve and Norm chattering in the kitchen.

'Hello?' Medusa answered cheerfully enough.

"Medusa, hi, it's Verna." She could already hear the redhead's sharp intake of breath. "Before you ask, everything's fine, nothing's wrong with any of us. I, um, I actually called to ask you, and Agon really, if you'd do us a favor..."


	2. Chapter 2

Medusa set her phone on the kitchen counter, ending the call with a smirk. She was in the middle of lunch with the twins when it rang, interrupting their discussion of Attilan’s use of geometry in its historical architecture. As she returned to her seat, the twins pestered her for information with rapid fire questions. _Who was that, mom? Was it Aunt Crystal? Is she coming over? Was it Flagman? Can we go downstairs?_

“One at a time, please,” she laughed. “It was Verna, actually. How would you two feel about Maeve joining us for lessons?”

Anora and Daryn looked to each other, intrigued by the thought of their playmate joining them every day for school. Anora spoke first. “I thought she goes to a human school?”

“She does, but she’s learning much faster than the other children. Verna believes that if she were taught by Inhumans then Maeve would be challenged at a pace that suits her needs.”

Daryn stabbed his fork through a carrot, his face pensive. “But Maeve is too little for the stuff we learn.”

“She will catch on,” Medusa assured him. “You two can help her.”

Anora grinned widely at the prospect of playing “teacher” while Daryn hesitated somewhat. Where Anora was outgoing, Daryn preferred one-on-one instruction and the thought of adding a third person into their lessons left him feeling unsure. He shook his head, only to clear his orange hair from his face. “I think it’s okay. She doesn’t know our language much.”

It was a good point; some concepts about Inhumanity could only be conveyed in Tilan. “That’s true. She will learn. You didn’t know our language at first,” Medusa snickered.

“That’s because we were babies and we didn’t talk yet,” Anora chastised. “And Hura doesn’t know our language either.”

“Hura can’t hear us talk,” Daryn shot back. “And Daddy don’t talk.”

“Daddy _doesn’t_ talk,” said Anora, her face smug at being able to one-up her brother. Daryn reached over and tugged one of Anora’s red wavy curls, causing her to jump and cry out. “Hey, that hurt! Mommy!”

Medusa sat straight up as she did whenever she assumed her role as queen. “Daryn Boltagon, cease such behavior. You know better than that.”

Daryn slumped back into his seat and twirled his fork again. As quiet and unassuming as Daryn appeared, he had impish moments. A trait he definitely shared with his big brother.

As Medusa picked up her own fork, she returned to their earlier conversation. “Now, tell me how Randac implemented fractals in designing the underground structure of Ancient Attilan.”

 

* * *

 

  
In New Attilan, Ahura lay on his back on Irelle’s bed, a thin sheet covering his waist. This was the first intimate moment he had with Irelle in over a week and he felt that if he didn’t touch her he would go out of his mind sometime soon. Working the Quiet Room stressed him out with Black Bolt watching his every move, and the twins drove him crazy on a daily basis with their inability to stay out of his room at home. Ahura needed alone-time, or at least Irelle-time, without responsibility and chaos.

Sometimes he looked at Irelle and his heart seemed to stop beating, other times it felt like it raced. He looked at her now as she raised the sheet and lay next to Ahura, turning on her side to rest her head on his bicep. It was good they were in bed, as her golden eyes and honey-brown hair made his knees weak.

For a few minutes they simply lay there, enjoying the stillness. Irelle’s twin sister, Treste, was out with Frank for some reason or another and would not be back until the following day, giving them plenty of time to be together without interruption. He liked the feeling of “owning” their own place for a while, even for just a few days.

Irelle hugged his waist, prompting Ahura to look down into her eyes. He loved her eyes, and could stare at them for hours. She signed to him. _What is it?_

 _You’re beautiful,_ he said, grinning. When Irelle and Ahura first met nearly ten years ago, he was immediately smitten with her. As they both grew into young adulthood, his feelings for her deepened into love. They bickered sometimes, and other times annoyed each other or needed some alone time, but they always came back. Ahura would do anything for her.

He tugged her closer so he could kiss her, running his hand down her naked hip. She threw her right leg over his left and entwined them together, locking him in place with her breasts against his sternum. Irelle could feel him against her hip, hard and thick.

Ahura rolled so he was on top of Irelle, pushing her knees apart with his own. Irelle was already flushed with want and warm to his touch, his fingers gliding smoothly between her legs. Without being directly on top of Irelle, Ahura could not tell if she moaned or gasped, he took his cues from her facial expressions and minute twitches of her legs. He worked his fingers faster, watching her chest rise and fall quickly.

Irelle wrapped her legs around Ahura’s waist and pulled him downward so she could kiss him again, messy and desperate. She wanted him inside her, to feel full in more ways than just physically. Irelle positioned his member between her own legs and urged him forward, keeping Ahura against her chest so he could feel her moan as he gently thrust forward.

Ahura nuzzled Irelle’s neck as he moved, the occasional grunt escaping his throat. Irelle loved to hear him grunt whenever they had sex, as it sounded so natural and unrestricted to her. Through practice they worked out their own tactile method of communicating so Irelle could tell him what she wanted when he couldn’t see her hands or vice versa. Tapping the small of Ahura’s back, as she did now, meant _harder,_ while a flat hand meant she wanted him to be more gentle. Briefly scratching Ahura’s skin meant faster, whereas a swipe with her hand meant to slow down.

Ahura sat up on his knees so he could hold Irelle by her hips, allowing him to thrust harder. Anytime Irelle bit her lower lip, Ahura had to think of something totally unrelated and boring so he didn’t finish too early. They learned to have fun with sex, trying different positions and allowing themselves to laugh when something silly happened, such as when they accidentally kicked over something Ahura had on his nightstand. Other times they were practically primal, Irelle leaving scratches and imprints with her nails in Ahura’s back. At the moment Ahura moved in waves, thrusting quickly until he felt her clench around him then slowing down once again to prolong their time together.

Irelle tightened her legs around Ahura’s waist, one hand reaching for his and the other crumpling the sheets. Ahura used his other hand to quickly rub her mound with his thumb, stopping his hips almost entirely when he could tell she was close. Out of instinct he began moving again, his skin now damp with a thin sheen of sweat.

He finished before her, pulling out at the last moment to stroke himself to completion. Ahura didn’t need to do so, the shot he received every few months meant they did not have to worry about unintended pregnancy. Irelle simply liked to watch him come.

Spent, Ahura leaned forward to kiss Irelle again. _You finish?_

Irelle shook her head, a sly grin on her face, then pushed Ahura downward by his shoulders. He kissed her in short increments down her stomach until his face was right where she wanted it to be.

 

* * *

 

 

Fully dressed, Ahura stood at the kitchen counter texting his mother and Verna while Irelle made lunch. Frank called to check in with Irelle but otherwise they were left alone.

Irelle turned off one of the burners to the stove, dishing some type of soup into bowls. It had a Tilan name, which did not have a sign, so Irelle had to guess how to spell it. She set both bowls on the table and tossed a dish towel at Ahura to get his attention. _What’s that look?_

_Look? What look?_

_You have a concerned look on your face._

Ahora screwed up his face to look silly. _This one?_

Irelle gently slapped his shoulder. _You know what I mean._

“Ma,” Ahura grunted, holding up his phone. _Mom said Verna called her, so I texted Verna to ask if she’s okay. They want Maeve to do school with the monsters._

She was always annoyed when Ahura called his brother and sister ‘monsters.’ They were as intelligent as any other inhuman child but still had the emotions and excitability of eight-year-olds, which meant they were just as impulsive. They regularly burst into Ahura’s room without flicking his light switch to let him know they were there, or they interrupted just about every conversation he tried to have with other adults nearby asking about unrelated things. If Ahura told them no or to go away, they would run off and tattle to Medusa. Ahura had no say in his own private time at home, as Anora could simply unlock his door with her powers if she wanted.

But there were other times when he laughed and played with them. Daryn liked to draw pictures with Ahura and Anora enjoyed roughhousing with her big brother, since Daryn generally did not. Ahura showed Daryn how to pull pranks on others, with Black Bolt frequently being the victim.

Sometimes Ahura felt like he had to fight for his parents’ attention. He wanted to talk to them about important things, about relationships and work and providing for a family he might have some day. It was impossible to do so if they could not stay focused but for a few minutes at a time. Ever since Norm and Verna adopted Maeve, Ahura felt displaced. He was always a second thought to everyone but Irelle. Ahura didn’t want all of his parents’ attention, just enough to feel like he was still important to them.

They sat across from each other to eat, which left Ahura feeling cozy. Was this how a relationship should feel, one without constant stress and decorum? They could easily blend into regular humanity when they went out, and sometimes when Ahura and Irelle went on a date they did so as far away from New Attilan as possible so no one would recognize them. It was these soft, still moments that kept Ahura going through the week. Working at the Quiet Room exhausted him mentally with the constant movement and people trying to gesture at him, forcing him to try and figure out what the other person meant. Ahura would work through much of the night, go upstairs to the apartment to sleep, then wake up a few hours later when one of the twins woke him. Sometimes it was merely Daryn wanting to snuggle and usually the little boy would fall right back asleep, but if it was Anora then she would annoy Ahura until he got up. This routine meant Ahura was always operating under a sleep deficit, leaving him irritable and cranky throughout the week.

Irelle tapped on the table to break Ahura out of his mental wandering. _I’m working with Vinatos this evening in the infirmary; what are your plans?_

Ahura shrugged, scraping the last of his soup into his spoon. _I think I’m going to visit Norm and Verna._

 _Take some of this soup with you or Frank will eat all of it. Randac knows he doesn’t need that much sodium._ Irelle reached out her hand so Ahura would pass his empty bowl to her. He waved her away and called forth one of his astral ghosts, setting it to work doing the dishes.

Irelle working for Vinatos was a recent development, as no one was entirely sure what power she acquired through Terrigenesis. Geneticists tested her frequently and could tell that she _did_ acquire something, but Irelle never felt a pull towards anything in particular. It wasn’t until she began noticing odd discrepancies whenever she visited Vinatos: she inherently knew that Ahura had next to no hearing left, but according to Vinatos he could still hear things over 90 decibels. Another time she could’ve sworn that an Inhuman was ill due to a poisonous substance, an Inhuman named Tali that served in the Royal Guard who Irelle spoke with on the way to the bridge into New York. Something abut him just seemed off: he appeared flush to her, like he was running a fever. She notified Vinatos, who went outside to check on the guard and saw nothing wrong with him. A few hours later a group of guards carried Tali in by his shoulders after he began vomiting profusely and was too weak to bring himself into the infirmary.

Vinatos then understood Irelle’s power: she was a healer, and could diagnose ailments based on the person’s temporal state in the near future. Her understanding of Ahura’s hearing loss wasn’t his _present_ state, it was what would _eventually_ happen. Irelle lacked medical training, however, and she soon took an apprenticeship under Vinatos to study. Irelle could see the result of a disorder allowing Vinatos to work backwards, such as diagnosing an elder with liver failure when he appeared jaundiced to Irelle. Vinatos was able to run the appropriate tests quickly and prevent any long-lasting damage to the elder.

Ahura was so proud of her, and anytime someone asked about how she liked her new position he lit up like the street lamps of New York at dusk.

He texted Verna once again to say he was on his way, the container of soup tucked under his arm. Ahura kissed Irelle once more before he left so she could get ready for the infirmary, heading across the bridge and towards the nearest train station. Most humans were too engrossed in their phones to really notice him, and it was easy for Ahura to blend into the crowd. Sometimes homeless people asked him for change or tried talking to him but Ahura just smiled at them, pointed at his ear, then shook his head. Usually they left him alone after that.

Riding the train was Ahura’s favorite thing about living in New York. If he needed to get away from his family he would take the train to no particular stop just so he had an excuse to ride it somewhere. Today he got off after six stops at the station closest to Norm and Verna’s apartment, walking the three blocks to the building.

When he let Verna know he was in the hallway leading to their door, he saw Maeve peek her head out into the hall a few moments later. She excitedly waved to him then ran back inside to let Ahura through the door.

“Mommy, Ahura’s here!”

Verna met Ahura at the door, wrapping him in a tight hug. They stayed that way for a solid minute, Ahura relishing the embrace as Verna pet the back of his head like she did when he was young. Ahura was much taller than Verna now, though not much taller than Norm, but to Verna he would always be her little wild-haired boy.

 _This is from Irelle. Soup,_ he said when they finally broke apart. Verna brought the container over to the kitchen area and set it on a counter to free her hands. Maeve stood on her tip-toes to look over the edge of the counter. She knew a few signs, mostly signs she learned as a baby, but she picked up on new ones easily whenever Ahura was there.

Maeve pointed at the container. _Name what?_

 _I dunno,_ Ahura shrugged. _Don’t know how to spell it. Some kind of soup. Irelle made it._

Maeve met Irelle a few times, more frequently when Maeve was still a tiny baby and Ahura helped his Earth-parents finish settling into their new apartment. Irelle loved infants, so the few hours she spent holding Maeve were some of Ahura’s favorite memories. Seeing his girlfriend smile in such a way made him love her even more.

Ahura sat on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island after setting Maeve on top of it. Maeve swung her feet beneath her, flicking her socks until they inched down to her toes and she could kick them off. _Hura-Too, look! I paint,_ she said, pointing at her toes and wiggling them. Each toe was covered in pink glittery nail polish, obviously applied by a six year old. Ahura inspected them, then dramatically sat back and held his nose.

Maeve was the only person to call him ‘Hura-Too,’ because she thought his full name was “Pope and Ahura, Too” until she was about three years old. The name stuck, and she called him that ever since. Ahura thought it was cute, so he let her continue calling him that even though she understood that his name was just Ahura.

Norm finally appeared out of his office in the back room, wearing a tattered Yankees shirt that Verna absolutely loathed. It was his most comfortable shirt and he usually wore it whenever his clerical band felt constricting. Norm never wore it to the church where he served as pastor, opting primarily for a regular dress-shirt and slacks on days when he wasn’t leading a service. He wrapped his wiry arm around Ahura’s neck and tugged him close to kiss his temple.

“Look who came to see you, Maevie,” said Norm, signing at the same time. He paused briefly to clean off his glasses with the tail of his shirt. Without them Norm had terrible vision, and Ahura gave himself a headache once wearing them when he was younger.

 _So is Maeve going to learn with the twins now?_ Ahura gently tickled Maeve’s ribcage, causing her to shriek and giggle. For a few weeks after Maeve’s adoption, Ahura had something of an existential crisis. What did he call her? His cousin or his sister?

 _We’re going to give it a try and see how it goes. Medusa wants her to start tomorrow,_ explained Verna.

Ahura cracked his knuckles, an absentminded habit. _So soon? That was fast._

_I offered to wait until next week but Medusa insisted. Maeve wasn’t challenged enough at school._

Maeve set her finger against her nose and somewhat twisted it, the sign for “boring.”

 _She’s already learning math that I didn’t learn until high school,_ Norm added. _If we let her continue in a regular school she would be singled out and made into a...I don’t know what sign to use._ Norm spelled the word he meant, letting Ahura show him the corresponding sign. _Spectacle, right._

Ahura’s phone buzzed, a text from Medusa coming in. Black Bolt needed another set of hands tonight; Flagman had a family emergency and was unable to work (only the second time in almost ten years), so Ahura would need to fill in for him. He groaned and laid his head on his arms, then dragged himself off the barstool and explained why he needed to leave so soon.

Norm hugged him quickly, then looked into his foster son’s eyes. _Relax, Pope. God doesn’t give you more than you can bear, remember?_ Ahura nodded and hugged Verna once again, promising to visit sometime within the next week or two, then left his former family.

 

* * *

 

  
The next morning, Verna knocked on the back door of the Quiet Room, holding Maeve’s hand tight so she didn’t get lost in the morning foot traffic. Black Bolt opened the door and waved them inside, smiling at his little niece. He brought them upstairs to the offices where the twins usually did their lessons.

Medusa met them at the door. “Good morning,” she said to both. A lock of hair reached out and around Maeve’s shoulder to take the backpack that was about as tall as Maeve. “Are you ready to get started? Anora and Daryn are excited for you to be here.”

Maeve nodded, looking around the office. A short table sat in the middle of the room with four chairs, one obviously not part of the set, and a few data pads scattered around. A regular whiteboard still had yesterday’s lesson on it, written primarily in Tilan with the occasional English word.

Verna knelt down to Maeve’s level. “Okay, pumpkin, Mommy’s gotta go to work. Be good for Aunt Medusa and Uncle B, alright? Daddy might pick you up this afternoon.”

Maeve nodded once again, hugging her mom tight. As if on cue, Anora and Daryn burst through the door just as Verna went to open it.

“Sorry, Aunt Verna,” Daryn said, his voice full of excitement at a new person joining them. He held out his hand to Maeve and walked with her over to the table, pointing out things in the office. “This is where we usually work, and this thing helps us with math. Oh, and this is where we put our homework. I think that’s a stupid name because we live here so all the work we do is homework.”

With Maeve distracted, Verna slipped through the door and quietly shut it behind her. She wasn’t sure how she felt, dropping her little girl off at a new “school” that was a little further away than the old one. On the other hand, it was probably one of the safest locations in New York. As she walked, Verna said a quick prayer for her baby and thanked God for providing an alternative that would meet Maeve’s needs.

Inside the office, Medusa called all three children over to the table. “Anora, would you like to tell Maeve what we were working on yesterday with geometric figures?”

Anora looked around the room for clues. “Yesterday it was fractals.”

“Correct,” Medusa smiled. “Maeve, do you know what a fractal is?”

“Umm, is that when a bunch of tiny shapes make up one big picture of the same shape?”

“You are very close! Let’s take a look at the formula used to create fractals, based on the recursive formula. Daryn, since Maeve hasn’t learned to read in Tilan yet, would you mind telling us what it says on the data pad?”

 

* * *

 

  
Black Bolt ate lunch with his family rather than at his desk as he usually did. He wanted to see how Maeve adjusted to Medusa’s instruction, and to see if he needed to purchase anything new for their “classroom” so everyone would be comfortable. Agon also joined them, only to see his granddaughter. Maeve called him “Papaw Agon,” but did not know Agon was truly her grandfather. She only knew him as Ahura and the twins’ grandpa.

Anytime Agon saw Maeve, she looked more and more like Maximus. The same facial structure, the same small eyes, the same chin that she stuck out whenever she was deep in thought like her father used to do. But her hair was from Rynda, and sometimes Agon caught himself tearing up whenever he saw his youngest grandchild. Of the four, Maeve looked the most like Rynda.

After the stroke Agon suffered a few months before Maeve’s birth, he worked hard to regain as much function as he could. He walked with an obvious limp, his left hand seemed to always shake and was weaker than his right, and he occasionally forgot words or used the wrong ones. Agon was about 95% independent once again; the only thing he did not track on his own was his medication, as he would forget if he took them or not that day. If anything it gave a family member an excuse to check in with him.

They sat down at a smaller round conference table, Agon settling in across from Maeve and next to Black Bolt. Typically Medusa continued teaching throughout lunch, reviewing the things they learned in the morning. Today she was more lax and allowed the conversation to flow organically.

“Where’s the boy?” Agon looked around the table and noted a figure missing.

“Ahura? I’m not sure, let me text him,” Medusa said, her face quizzical. Agon shook his head and unfolded his napkin, telling her to let it go. His oldest grandson seemed to find every excuse to be somewhere else lately.

For lunch, Black Bolt had his kitchen staff make something traditionally human so Maeve did not feel overwhelmed by Inhuman culture on her first day with the Boltagons. Silently he conversed with Medusa, asking how the day went thus far.

_Is she settling in well?_

Medusa nodded, cutting into a stalk of broccoli. _She’s brilliant, Blackagar. I’m so glad Verna took Maeve out of the human school; poor girl would’ve been miserable. She told me they were only starting addition and subtraction last week._

Black Bolt winced. Anora and Daryn could multiply and divide before they were three, mastered fractions by four, and finishing sine and cosine before their fifth birthday. Compared to the average Inhuman child, Anora and Daryn were slightly more advanced. Vinatos attributed this to Medusa’s direct instruction rather than the small class sizes of an Inhuman school.

Medusa always made sure they had play time, however. The twins were only 8, and they needed ample time to play and unleash their pent up energy. Sometimes Anora wanted to read instead, or Daryn wanted to draw rather than running around like rabid monkeys. It depended on the day and the weather, or if they somehow got into trouble during learning time. Today they would be free to play after lunch, potentially going to the park with Medusa and Agon if they were too wild.

They ate slowly, frequently interrupted by stories from Medusa or Agon. The twins kept up a running commentary of everything, something they’ve done ever since they could form sentences. Between the two of them they were rarely quiet, unlike Maeve who waited to speak until someone spoke to her first. Whenever she visited for play dates, she did not spend an extended amount of time near Agon or Black Bolt so their proximity made her shy.

“Mommy,” Daryn interjected, “if we go to the park, can we bring Lockjaw?”

Medusa shook her head. “Lockjaw is too big for the playground area in the park, my love.”

Daryn huffed and sat back in his chair. Lockjaw was his best friend, and when he was with Lockjaw he appeared far more confident than without his favorite dog. His stuffed Lockjaw toy, La-La, had a special place on a shelf in the twins’ room, and the one time Medusa moved La-La so she could dust, Daryn threw one of the worst tantrums Medusa had seen from him. Anora did not grow attached to certain toys the same way; she has a preference for a few, but her demeanor was also relaxed enough that if anyone moved her toys she did not throw a fit.

Maeve finished her lunch and sat quietly until others finished, unsure as to what the plans for the afternoon would be. At the human school they had thirty minutes of recess after lunch, certainly not an entire afternoon. She was aching to learn, to give her brain the strenuous exercise it deserved. “Aunt Medusa, can you show me how to read Attilan?”

Medusa chuckled. “You mean Tilanese? Of course, my dear. Agon can also show you, if you’d like.”

Agon nodded, smiling as best he could with his somewhat lopsided grin. Maeve smiled back and sat up in her chair. “Yeah, okay! After we eat?”

Medusa looked over to Agon to see if he would be able to do so or if he would rather nap beforehand. Agon dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and set it on his lap. “We can start with the alphabet after lunch, yes.”

Both of the twins made sounds of exasperation. “But Mom,” Anora whined. “I thought we were going to the park.”

“We will go after Maeve is introduced to our alphabet. It won’t take long.”

“ _Vek Mora, sa Daryn w ne rol ghus iu albet._ ” Anora continued to whine, crossing her arms across her chest.

“But Maeve does _not_. You will be patient while she learns, both of you. Is that understood?”

Both twins answered in unison. “ _Na’a, Mora._ ”

The rest of lunch was quiet while the twins continued to pout. As soon as Agon tossed his napkin onto his plate and stood, Maeve hopped up from her chair and pushed it in, eager to follow him. Agon held out his hand for Maeve to take and they returned to the offices upstairs.

Upstairs, Agon flipped the whiteboard over to a blank side, quickly writing the Tilanese alphabet then the English alphabet.

“The Tilanese alphabet is not entirely based on individual letters, but their sounds. We share some similarities, but Tilanese has more letters. For example, these letters make the same sound in English,” explained Agon as he circled various letters. “These letters are special, they do not have an easy English way of saying them.”

He wrote two full words on the board, complete with dashes and punctuation. “This letter, _ek_ , is used quite frequently, but these markings change its sound. Can you guess what word this is?”

Maeve wracked her brain, trying to find a clue. After a moment she shook her head.

“This is my name,” said Agon, as he pointed to each letter. “ _Ek-on_ , but with this marking the _ek_ sounds like _ag_. This mark makes it sound like _ak_.”

“Like in Uncle B’s name.”

Agon smiled widely, so proud of Maeve for catching on quickly. “As well as Karnak, and Maximus.”

As soon as the word left his mouth, Agon froze. He wanted to physically slap himself for the error. When Maeve began to ask who Maximus was, Agon interrupted her in hopes of distracting the little girl.

“Would you like to see how your name is written? It is only three letters.”

The plan worked, and Maeve enthusiastically nodded. As Agon wrote the proper letter he breathed a sigh of relief, promising himself to be more conscientious in the future. Within only a few minutes, the name slipped from Maeve’s mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation from Tilanese: “But mom, Daryn and I already know the alphabet.”
> 
> And
> 
> “Yes, mom.”
> 
> (Tilanese has only ever been shown twice in the comics, and only one word ever translated. So I [steeeb] made them up based on the grammar of various languages.)


	3. Chapter 3

Anora tore her hand free of Medusa's as soon as the playground was in sight, Daryn right behind her, both heading for the climbing frame, already daring each other as to who could climb highest. Maeve, not as outgoing as the older twins, hung back, taking in the playground and the few other children there, unsure what to do first.

Anora and Daryn were soon joined on the climbing frame by a few other children, racing each other to the top, and their yells and shrieks of laughter grew louder. Maeve shrank closer to Medusa, unused to this much noise.

Medusa glanced down at her, slightly concerned. "Aren't you going to go and join in?" The twins had never hesitated like this when given the chance to run off and play...

Maeve glanced nervously at the climbing frame, now teeming with rambunctious children, all bigger than her, then turned and headed over to the empty swing set. Hauling herself onto a swing, she began kicking her legs back and forth, but wasn't able to set herself swinging very well, because her legs weren't really long enough. Nonetheless, she persisted. She seemed content enough swinging, so Medusa kept half an eye on her, while watching the twins with more care, ready to use her hair if it appeared they would do something beyond their capabilities. Her thoughts drifted somewhat- Agon, before he'd gone for a rest and she'd brought the children to the park, had admitted he'd accidentally said Maximus' name in front of Maeve. He thought he'd distracted her successfully this time, but still, it worried Medusa. Maeve would now be spending a long part of each day at the Quiet Room, having lessons and just playing with the twins. Other members of the royal family would stop by at some point as well. Were they meant to never mention Maximus if Maeve might hear? What would they say if Maeve asked who he was? Medusa stifled a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was something she and Blackagar, and the Adams', would need to discuss before too long. Maeve was an intelligent girl, she'd seen proof of that, and would surely notice if something was being kept secret from her.

"Nora, that's not safe!" Daryn's yell jarred Medusa from her thoughts, and she whirled, expecting to see her wayward daughter at the very top of the climbing frame, or dangling from it one handed, but Anora didn't even seem to be on the frame. Medusa glanced at Daryn, about to go over and ask what he was yelling about, when she noticed Maeve was no longer on the swing. Her heart-rate picked up, and she glanced around wildly, abstractedly noting that one adult wasn't really enough to mind three small children. She exhaled when she recognized Maeve at the base of the climbing frame- until what she was actually seeing registered.

Anora was attempting to pick Maeve up and carry her on her back, apparently intending to clamber back up the frame while carrying her cousin.

Medusa was racing towards them as Anora actually managed to climb up several bars, getting further from the ground, Maeve clinging to her tightly.

"Anora Boltagon, you stay right where you are!" Medusa snapped, anxiety making her voice harsher than normal- she kept seeing, in her mind's eye, Maeve toppling backwards, or Anora underestimating their combined weight and both girls falling.

Anora turned to look at her mother, grinning, clearly not seeing the danger of her reckless behavior. "Why, Mommy? We're fine!" Unfortunately, she was wrong. In turning to look at Medusa, she'd upset Maeve's balance, and the smaller girl lost her grip, screaming as she fell.

Medusa's hair shot out like lightning, wrapping round Maeve and cushioning her fall, so the only thing the little girl suffered was fright. Still, Medusa felt sick with fear as she knelt next to her niece, making sure she was alright, and hugging her tightly. Breathing shakily, she lifted Maeve in her arms as she stood, glaring up at Anora, who was pale-faced.

"Come down here. _Now_ , young lady." Medusa's tone brooked no dissent. "You too, Daryn." She utterly disregarded the human children (and adults) who were now gawking, pointing at her hair.

Anora and Daryn scrambled down and stood in front of her, Anora staring at the ground in shame, Daryn fidgeting and chewing his lip nervously. Medusa carefully set Maeve down then folded her arms and stared imperiously at all three of them, waiting.

Anora's lip wobbled and she burst into tears. "I'm sorry! I just wanted Mae to be able to climb with us. She wasn't big enough so I thought I'd help her. I didn't know she might fall, I never meant to hurt her, Mora!"

Medusa regarded her daughter coolly. She spoke in Tilanese so Maeve wouldn't be able to follow the conversation. "You remember I told you and your brother that you were meant to watch out for Maeve and be good examples for her, as you're older?"

Anora nodded guiltily.

"Do you think talking her into doing something like that was a good choice?"

"No." Anora sniffled.

Medusa nodded. "What should you have done instead?"

Anora pouted but didn't answer.

"We should've asked you to help, Mommy." Daryn piped up.

"Yes, you should. Try and remember that next time, both of you. If there's something you want to do that Maeve can't manage, _ask an adult_. What you think are good ideas might be riskier than you let on." Medusa left it at that, turning to Maeve and switching back to English, as Maeve was looking disgruntled. "Sorry about that, sweetheart, I was just explaining something to your cousins-" Medusa cut herself off, kicking herself.

Maeve giggled, her fright from her near-fall quickly fading. "They're not really my cousins, Aunt Medusa!" Her little face sobered. "Anyway, it was my fault too. I said yes to Nora carrying me cos I wanted to climb."

"Mm-hmm." Medusa regarded her, not really taking that seriously. Anora could be very persuasive and bossy when she wanted to, and Maeve wasn't confident enough yet to say no to her. "Anyway, because you did something silly, we're going home now."

"But Mom!" Anora whined, stamping her foot.

"Actions have consequences, Anora, you know that."

"That's not fair!" Daryn scowled. " _I_  didn't do anything, I told her no!"

Medusa took Anora and Maeve's hands. "Come on, home." She began walking, knowing full well that Daryn would follow. Sure enough, he trailed after them, pouting.

"Can we at least see Lockjaw later, Mom?"

"We'll see." Medusa said absently, concentrating on crossing the street and making their way home. She didn't want to appear to be rewarding negative behavior, but on the other hand, Daryn _hadn't_  been the one to cause trouble, and he loved seeing Lockjaw...

She sheperded the children back into the Quiet Room, ignoring the various grumbling she could hear from them. Maeve tugged on her hand, and she glanced down. "Yes?"

Maeve looked uneasy. "I'm sorry I got Anora and Daryn into trouble, Auntie."

Medusa put a hand on her shoulder. "You didn't, honey. Anora made a bad choice, but she'll learn from it. It wasn't your fault."

"OK."

The twins, still sulking, wandered off to find their father. Black Bolt was out front in minutes, one twin under each arm. He was grinning, but his eyes were concerned as they met Medusa's. ' _You're back very quickly. Did something happen at the park?'_

Medusa rolled her eyes. ' _I'll tell you later_.' Aloud, she said, "Is there any chance you could call Lockjaw? Daryn was looking forward to seeing him, and I think Maeve might like to meet him."

Black Bolt nodded, calling to the canine Inhuman telepathically as he set Anora and Daryn down.

"Who's Lockjaw?" Maeve asked curiously, peering at Daryn.

Daryn puffed up proudly. "He's my- er, _our_  family dog."

Maeve grinned. "You have a dog? That's so cool! I want a pet, but Mommy and Daddy always say not yet."

"You can share Lockjaw if you want." Anora offered, now over her sulk.

"Really? Will he like me?"

"Course! He likes everyone. He's a good dog."

Maeve looked around. "Where is he?"

A sandy vortex appeared in the middle of the room, and Maeve stared. Both twins laughed.

"He's now coming!"

Maeve frowned, not getting what the sandy thing had to do with a dog, but she waited.

Lockjaw 'sifted' into view and bounded over to greet the twins, barking loudly, his tail wagging.

Maeve's eyes bugged as she saw the hippo-sized bulldog appear out of nowhere and come charging towards her, huge teeth gleaming, ropes of drool dangling from its mouth.

"It's going to eat me!" Terrified, she screamed and bolted from the room before any of the adults could catch her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Black Bolt remained in the conference room to quiet Lockjaw when Maeve ran out of the room. She couldn’t go far (an unaccompanied minor in his bar would be stopped almost immediately) so Black Bolt was not too worried. He firmly pointed to the ground to order Lockjaw to sit, then held his hand up in the universal sign for “stop.” Lockjaw sat his hind legs down first, then lowered the front of his massive body and gave the appropriate expression of shame Black Bolt expected.

Daryn stood in front of his father, his tiny fists on his hips, and wagged one of his fingers at the huge dog that easily dwarfed him. “That was a bad Lockjaw! You don’t scare people,” he said with all the sternness he could muster. Lockjaw laid his head on his paws and whined.

With Daryn chastising his best friend, Black Bolt left the room to hunt for Maeve. He didn’t have to look far; Flagman stood at his workstation pretending to be engrossed in a ledger but nodded to his right when he noticed Black Bolt, indicating he should check the walk-in coat closet.

Black Bolt knocked on the door and listened for a response. Maeve didn’t say anything but Black Bolt could hear shuffling inside. He slowly opened the door and poked his head inside to see Maeve’s feet under some coats that no one ever claimed.

Gently, he pushed away one of the coats and stepped back, allowing the little girl to come out when she felt ready. Maeve hesitated for about a minute and tentatively took a few steps outward, sniffling.

“I’m sorry, Uncle B, I didn’t mean to run away,” she said. “He was scary.”

Black Bolt nodded and knelt, smiling at the niece who called him “uncle” but had no idea he actually _was_ her uncle. He held open his arms to suggest he would like a hug, then picked her up and carried her back outside. Flagman looked up from his ledger and smiled.

“Everything okay, boss?”

Black Bolt nodded again and tucked some of Maeve’s hair behind her ear just like he did to Anora’s. Flagman used one of his “flags” to tickle Maeve’s ribs, similar to the way Medusa used her hair. The little girl tried to continue pouting but eventually gave in and giggled.

When Black Bolt stepped toward the conference room again, Maeve latched onto his neck tightly and hid her face in her uncle’s shoulder. Inside the conference room, Lockjaw lay on his side with pure happiness on his face as Daryn and Anora scratched his belly. Now that Lockjaw was calm, he appeared far less frightening. At the sound of Anora and Daryn giggling, Maeve peeked from Black Bolt’s shoulder enough to see that Lockjaw was no longer a threat, then lifted her head fully. She did not immediately reach out and touch Lockjaw but watched him carefully from her uncle’s arms.

“It’s okay, Mae,” Anora said with Lockjaw’s massive paw in her hands. “See? He won’t hurt you.”

“Yeah,” agreed Daryn. “He’s a good boy.”

A knock was heard from the door and Flagman opened it a second later. “Hey, boss, Little Bit’s dad is here.”

Norm stepped around Flagman and admired his “flags” for a split second. He’d seen Flagman before but not this close. Norm wore his clerical collar today, meaning he led a service or two earlier. Maeve loved watching her daddy preach; whenever Norm was passionate about a subject, it was easy to see as he stood at the pulpit.

Ahura asked him once how Norm could believe in God when Inhumans and mutants and aliens existed, many of whom could do the same things that were in the Bible. It took a few hours before Norm got back to him with an answer, but Norm eventually told Ahura that it was the principles he believed in that comprised God and not necessarily a literal being. It was easier for humans to understand constructs when they were organized and manageable, and “God,” whether real or not, could be condensed into various tenants and creeds. To Norm, God was love, charity, and hope in the unseen.

When Norm saw Lockjaw, his face lit up. “Lockjaw! Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” Lockjaw popped his head up and ‘grinned’, sniffing at Norm and licking his hand when held out. Seeing her dad interact safely with the huge dog, Maeve’s trepidation turned to curiosity. She wriggled from Black Bolt’s arms and stood behind Norm, clutching the bottom of his waistcoat. “Did you get to meet Lockjaw today, monkey?”

Maeve nodded, then slowly reached her hand outward towards Lockjaw. Lockjaw sniffed her hand as well, panting but not making any movement that might scare the small human once again. He lay his head down on his huge paws once again so Maeve could touch his fur.

He felt like any other short haired dog, his fur prickly in some spots and smooth in others. Daryn had resumed trying to climb on top of Lockjaw’s back, opting to use his rump as a foothold rather than his usual route of using Lockjaw’s snout. Seated at the top, Daryn then stretched out with his ear against Lockjaw’s shoulder blades and grinned as if he were in his ‘happy place.’ It wouldn’t be the first time Daryn snoozed on Lockjaw’s back.

Norm let Maeve continue petting Lockjaw and went to Medusa. “How’d she do?”

Medusa smiled widely. “She was wonderful, we loved having her. We went to the park this afternoon so we had a light day today.” She left out the part where Anora nearly dropped Maeve from the climbing frame.

“Does she have any homework? Anything like that?”

“Oh, yes, one moment,” Medusa said as she made a beeline for the conference room table once again. “Agon asked that she practice writing the Tilanese alphabet tonight.” She handed Norm a data pad and flipped through some screens to one on which Maeve could write with her finger.

Norm looked at the screen with a blank face. “I don’t know which way is even up on this thing.”

“Maeve will know,” Medusa smiled. “She is so intelligent, Norm, you ought to be proud of her.”

“I’m very proud of her. Ready to go, monkey?”

Maeve ceased petting Lockjaw and ran back to her dad, the backpack that practically swallowed her bouncing up and down. Norm unzipped the largest pocket and dropped the data pad inside, zipping it back up. They said their goodbyes and left the Quiet Room, Maeve holding her dad’s hand and chatting about all the things she learned that day.

The Boltagons went upstairs once again so Black Bolt could begin making supper. Medusa cooked more frequently, but Black Bolt made an effort to share some of the responsibilities he could not do during the day since he was either running the bar or sleeping. The twins were relegated to cleaning their room as he did so with Medusa making sure they stayed on-task. As they grew and their beds upgraded from cribs to toddler beds to regular twin-sized beds, they had less space to move around in their room but they still managed to wreck it at least once per week.

With the twins working, Medusa went into the kitchen to speak with her husband. “Have you heard from Ahura today?”

Black Bolt shook his head.

“He must be out with Irelle then.”

_”It’s improper, Medusa.”_

Medusa paused with her hand on the frame of the kitchen doorway. “What do you mean?”

_”He knows the obligations for Inhuman courtship. I’m surprised the Council hasn’t approached him yet.”_

“He’s still an adolescent, Blackagar.”

_”We were younger than he is now when we were married!”_

She looked to the ground for a moment to gather her thoughts. Technically, Black Bolt was correct: there was a courtship process that every Inhuman went through that involved presenting before the Genetic Council to declare their intentions and undergo genetic testing to ensure compatibility. If the couple were incompatible, their relationship was nullified.

But that was also when the Genetic Council had almost god-like control over Inhumanity, with more power than even the monarchy. Since Medusa stripped the Council of their power, Inhumans were free to court whomever they pleased. Older Inhumans still held fast to the old methods, however, though Medusa was somewhat surprised at Black Bolt’s insistence that Ahura conform, especially considering that their own courtship was practically forbidden by the Genetic Council.

Theirs was an unusual situation, however. Throughout virtually the entire line of Inhuman monarchy the successor was married well-before the succession took place. While Black Bolt and Medusa began their courtship long before the deaths of Agon and Rynda, Black Bolt was unable to present before the Council until his release from the anechoic chamber. After his release, much of his focus was spent on integrating into Inhuman society rather than marriage, which only lasted about two weeks before he was crowned king in a hasty ceremony. Black Bolt and Medusa were married less than 48 hours later, with the understanding that they were forbidden from having children.

Knowing this, Medusa felt confused at Black Bolt’s insistence that Ahura follow the old standard rather than the new. “Blackagar, you _know_ that I know you well enough to see you’re using Ahura’s relationship to avoid talking about something else. Is something on your mind, my husband?”

Black Bolt shook his head and turned off the burner to the stove, not looking his wife in the eye. Medusa knew his tells and the things he did to deflect how he felt. She stood in front of him with her hand on his broad chest. “Tell me.”

He sighed deeply. _”Pretending Maximus does not exist wears on me. Seeing Maeve is a constant reminder of him.”_

“She’s starting to look more like him, isn’t she?”

Black Bolt nodded and looked to his feet. Until now Maeve looked more like her mother, Mara. Within the past year or so her facial features began to resemble Maximus.

“ _I think about what he-“_

Black Bolt’s head snapped up when he heard one of his children shout.

“ _NOH-UH!_ ”

They darted into the living room to find Ahura and Daryn standing outside his room, looking in. They weren’t able to catch Ahura before he stomped into his room, continuing to shout at Anora for some unseen slight. Since Ahura rarely used his voice, they were unable to determine the cause of his outburst.

Daryn hid behind Medusa, his face buried in the hem of her dress. “I tried to make her stop, mommy, I told her Hura would be mad.”

Medusa pat Daryn’s back and looked up again to find Ahura’s shoulders hitching somewhat. In his hands were plastic pieces, remnants of an old toy that Norm or Verna gave him when Ahura lived with them as a child. It was a simple toy, but one of Ahura’s prized possessions. Ahura sniffled and set it on his bed as if he were burying the old toy.

Medusa let go of Daryn so she could have full use of her hands. She signed and spoke at the same time. “Anora, apologize to Ahura for destroying his property.”

Anora have the required sign, but Ahura refused to look at her. “ _No, this is not something she can just apologize for and get away with._ ”

“My love, it was only a toy,” Medusa soothed. Ahura suddenly looked abhorred.

“ _It wasn’t just a toy, mom! It’s more than just a toy; it’s all I had left of when I lived with Norm and Verna._ ”

“Ahura, I know how much that means to you-“

“ _No, you don’t! Neither of you know what it meant to me or even care, for that matter._ ”

There was a pause where everyone was silent save for Ahura sniffling. Anora went to Black Bolt to hide from her big brother.

“ _They’re children, Ahura. They don’t know any better,_ ” said Black Bolt, connecting with his son telepathically.

“ _You would never let me get away with something like this.”_

Black Bolt held up his hand, his face stern as if he just resumed the throne. “ _Grow up, Ahura._ ”

Medusa was stunned. Ahura and Black Bolt squabbled before, usually over minor things, but this was the first time Black Bolt told Ahura to grow up.

“Blackagar-“

Black Bolt snapped his finger to silence his wife. “ _You are no longer a child, Ahura. You’re nearly a man, and you will behave as such._ ”

Ahura’s face showed hurt, sadness, and fury within a microsecond. The most difficult part was that Ahura knew Black Bolt was right. He was 25 years old, nearing 26, on the edge of Inhuman adulthood and he still clung to objects from twenty years ago.

After looking to the ground for a few moments, Ahura looked up at his father with a face that read finality. He stomped past them both and went straight for the hallway closet, tossing everything at the bottom behind him until he located an old duffle bag. Ahura slammed the closet door and went back to his room, yanking open his dresser and throwing whatever clothes he could find into the bag. Medusa tried to stop him but Ahura shrugged her off, refusing to look at her hands.

With his drawers mostly empty, Ahura pulled open his nightstand drawer and carefully placed some of the objects he found into his duffle. In an act of defiance, he gathered the pieces of his toy and wrapped it in a shirt to prevent further damage in his bag.

He could probably fix his old toy with some glue, but this was about more than just the toy. Ahura was upset at the lack of autonomy he had, that the twins were allowed to get away with nearly everything, and that he had no life of his own. He was replaced by everyone: for Black Bolt and Medusa it was the twins, for Norm and Verna it was Maeve. The only person who seemed to care about how he felt was Irelle.

Medusa tried to stop her son, touching his shoulder for his attention. He shrugged her off once again and quietly walked to the front door of the apartment. Ahura didn’t hesitate as he slammed the door behind him, rattling the walls and causing the twins to jump.

Daryn was the first to start crying. He wrapped his arms around Medusa’s waist and “Mommy, where’s Hura going? Is he gonna come back?”

Medusa gathered her baby in a hug, trying to keep a stoic face lest she began crying herself. “Ahura just needs some time, my love. The toy was important to him.” She dodged his question, as she was not sure if Ahura actually would return or not.

Black Bolt held Anora’s hand and marched her to the twins’ bedroom, pointing at her bed and ordering her to sit. Anora did not go quietly, apologizing and whining the entire way and continuing to do so as she sat. Daryn avoided looking at her, still miffed that she did not listen to him and causing such drama.

“How about you go lay down in mommy and daddy’s bed, my love,” Medusa suggested to Daryn, nudging him in that direction. Daryn ambled in and crawled onto the bed, curling into a little ball as Medusa lay a blanket across him. She closed the door behind her, her face lapsing into sadness as she did so. Black Bolt refused to meet her gaze.

 

* * *

 

Lugging his duffle bag through New York foot traffic was a hassle as Ahura fought to find space on the train. After the meltdown at the apartment in Union Station he wanted to go back to Norm and Verna’s. At least there he was free from his father’s judgmental glare all day. They might not have space for him, certainly not an extra room, but Ahura would not mind crashing on the couch for a night or two if they would allow him to do so.

Verna met him at the door, enveloping him in a tight hug before he even made it through the doorway. “ _Medusa texted me._ ”

Ahura nodded, resisting the urge to sniffle once again. If Black Bolt wanted Ahura to “man up” then he might as well not show any emotion whatsoever, since that seemed to be Black Bolt’s way of doing things. Never show any emotion, even for those he loved.

“ _Where’s Norm?_ ”

“ _He was called to a church member’s house. Sick oil._ ” There probably was an actual sign for ‘anointing’ but Verna didn’t know it. Instead she described what Norm was doing, though Ahura still did not appear to understand.

She encouraged Ahura to drop his duffle bag in a corner so it would be out of the way and for him to relax while she went to the kitchen to finish some paperwork she was working on. Maeve wandered out of her bedroom with the data pad Medusa gave her to practice the alphabet. She plopped herself onto the couch with Ahura to show him her work. Ahura knew the Tilanese alphabet and how to read it, but he did not know any of the sounds the letters made. In any case, he was not in the mood for Maeve’s innocence at the moment.

“ _Hura-Too, see I did? Letters.”_

Ahura nodded, not really paying attention.

“ _Watch, I write my name here. This mean Anora, this Daryn, and this-_ ”

“ _Why don’t you try writing Ona, since you love the Boltagons so much,_ ” said Ahura, his hands full of spite.

Maeve looked through the letters to find which ones she would need to write the new word. “ _Okay!_ ” She only needed two letters, the _on_ with an accent that made it a long-vowel sound and the _ah_ sound with a similar accent. As she finished, Verna came back into the room. Maeve held up the data pad to show her mom the new words. “Mommy, who is Ona?”


	5. Chapter 5

" _Mommy, who's Ona?_ "

Verna stared in shock as her daughter's words echoed in her head. Maeve was gazing at her innocently, having no idea of the turmoil her question had raised in her mother. Verna blinked repeatedly, hoping she'd misheard or this was a dream of some kind...

Maeve was watching her expectantly. "Mommy? Did you hear me? Who's Ona?"

Verna busied her hands, shuffling the pile of papers she'd been working on, then setting them down on the table as she struggled to think of a reply. "Where did you hear that name, honey?"

"Hura said I should write it if I like his family." Maeve grinned, holding up the datapad and proudly showing her mom the Tilan writing. "Is Ona 'nother cousin of his? I know he's got lots. Can I meet her?"

Verna bit her lip hard, mind whirling. Anger at Ahura for revealing that name to Maeve, bringing up questions her little girl wasn't ready for was the dominant emotion in her mind, but losing her temper with her former foster-son wasn't going to make Maeve forget about that name. She'd need to discuss this with Norm as soon as possible, (as well as having a few sharp words with Ahura about taking his moods out on a six-year-old) but what could she possibly say to distract Maeve now?

Ahura stood up and walked over to stand beside Maeve, dragging his feet, head down, guilt etched on his face- clearly, he already regretted what he'd done, but Verna was still stumped about how to reply to Maeve, who was now looking at her worriedly.

"Mommy? Are you OK?" She bit her lip. "Am I not 'llowed to ask about Ona?"

Ahura had managed to lip-read the word 'Ona' from Maeve and interrupted by tapping her on the shoulder. ' _How do you spell Mommy and Daddy's names in Tilan?_ ' He signed, pulling a smile onto his face. _'Can you show me?'_

Maeve frowned thoughtfully for a second then apparently effortlessly identified the Tilan symbols that corresponded to Norm and Verna in English, and wrote them with a flourish, handing the datapad to Ahura so she could sign her reply. ' _Like that! Don't you know how, Hura-Too?'_

Before he could reply, something else occured to Maeve and she looked up at Verna, her brow furrowed. "Mommy, how come Hura calls you Mom? He doesn't live with us, and his mom is Aunt Medusa..."

Verna sighed with relief- at least the question of the name Ona seemed to have been forgotten. "You're full of questions, today, sweetie!" She picked Maeve up, settling her on her hip. Maeve was tiny enough that she could support her with one arm and still sign for Ahura's sake. "Well, when Ahura was very little, somehow he got lost away from his home. Daddy and I took him in to keep him safe and he lived with us for a while, so he started calling us Mom and Dad." She signed as she spoke, so Ahura wasn't excluded from the conversation. "His parents found him in the end, and he went home, but we stayed in touch," she willfully left out the many years they'd missed of Ahura's life, Maeve didn't need to hear that, "And he still calls us Mom and Dad because we were his parents, for a while."

Maeve nodded sagely, copying her mother and signing while she spoke. "So you and Daddy, and Uncle B and Aunt Medusa, share Ahura. And he has two mommies and daddies."

'That's right.' Ahura signed, smiling. He still felt hurt and angry from the scene with his father, but he already felt sick at the way he'd taken it out on Maeve- as if hurting her by attempting to reveal her past was going to make him feel any better!

 _'Hura, are there photos of you as a kid, when you lived here? I want to see!'_ Maeve signed fast, wriggling to get out of Verna's arms.

' _Not live here_.' Ahura signed. ' _Different place_.'

Maeve shrugged. "I still wanna see pictures." She looked at Verna hopefully, big brown eyes wide. "Please, Mommy, will you show me?"

Verna smiled, well aware she wouldn't be getting any more paperwork done , at least not until Maeve was in bed. "Alright, let's go see what we can find." She did in fact have a small hand-held album of pictures, of her, Norm and Ahura- or 'Pope', as he'd been called then, that she'd always kept. It was in her bedside cabinet, along with a similar set of albums- a work-in-progress of Maeve's life with them, starting from when they'd first seen her, as a tiny baby in an incubator. "Shall we show Ahura the pictures of you as well?"

"Yeah!" Maeve clapped happily, looking at him as he followed them, and signing. ' _Ahura, you wanna see pictures of baby me?'_

Ahura smirked. ' _Baby you? You mean you used to be even smaller than this?_ ' He made his eyes comically wide, as if disbelieving that.

Maeve burst into giggles. ' _Silly Hura! Of course I used to be a baby!'_

He shook his head, still feigning shock. ' _No. If you any smaller, you vanish_.'

Maeve managed to squirm out of Verna's arms to the floor as they reached Norm and Verna's room. She ran over to the drawer where the album was kept, yanked it open and grabbed the smallest pink album, brandishing it under Ahura's nose. He took it, grinning, opening it to the first page, a picture of newborn Maeve in the incubator, breathing and feeding tubes still attached to her miniscule face, in Vinatos' infirmary in New Attilan. Obviously, Maeve wouldn't know the location, but she pointed at her infant self, then signed, her nose in the air. ' _Me! See?'_

Ahura squinted at the picture, then laughed, shaking his head, catching Verna's eye. ' _No. That just a pink spot on a blanket_.'

Maeve playfully smacked him. ' _It's ME!_ '

' _You sure?_ '

' _YES!'_ Maeve was giggling so hard, she could barely stand upright now.

Ahura stopped teasing and flipped to the next photo. This one showed the first time Verna had held Maeve, before she and Norm had actually agreed to adopt her. Ahura assumed someone (Medusa? Black Bolt?) had pulled this image, and the previous one, from the infirmary's medical security video and printed them into photographs. Norm sat beside Verna as she cradled the baby, both staring down at her, rapt. Ahura's eyes stung. Had his parents ever looked at him this way when he was a baby? He had no doubt Medusa had, but Black Bolt... He found it hard to believe his father had been this adoring when he'd been a baby, given all the trouble with the Genetic Council at the time. He swallowed, pushing the thought aside. It was in the past, it didn't matter.

Maeve was tugging at his arm. He turned to look at her. ' _You want see photos of you?_ '

Verna was now holding a smaller blue album, and Ahura hesitated. He did want to see reminders of his life with his Earth-parents, but right now, he felt so emotional, he thought he might break down and cry at the memories, particularly with all the problems he was having at home. He didn't want to blurt out anything about wishing he could have stayed with the Adams, though lately he'd wished that more often than he wanted to admit.

Maeve, however, took his silence for assent, and was now leafing through the album. She giggled softly. ' _Hura, your hair was messy!_ '

' _So's yours._ ' Ahura retorted, sticking his tongue out at her.

Maeve blinked, touching her head, feeling her smooth blonde hair. ' _No, it's not-_ ' She yelped as Ahura's hands shot out, ruffling her hair and making a complete bird's nest of it.

He sat back, smirking. ' _Is messy now_.'

' _Mommy, look! I look like Hura, messy hair!'_ Maeve looked thrilled at this, not annoyed as Anora would have.

Verna shook her head in exasperation at the antics of her two children- she still thought of Ahura that way more often than not- but her eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter.

Ahura moved to sit on the bed, and Maeve scrambled into his lap. Verna sat beside them and they continued going through both photo albums, talking and laughing about each image.

The sound of the front door opening took them all by surprise.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Norm's voice echoed from the front hall towards them. Verna nudged Ahura to get his attention, signing 'Norm home', while Maeve clambered off the bed and raced into the hall.

"Daddy!"

Norm swept her up, hugging her, before lifting her to sit on his shoulders. "Hey, monkey. How's Mommy? Did you get all your homework done?"

"Mommy's OK now, and yep, I did. Hura's visiting for a few days, and we're looking at baby photos. Hura taught me to write lots of new words in Tilan, too!"

"Did he?" Norm grinned, though he was a bit puzzled about Pope- _Ahura_ \- actually staying here. He visited a lot, but actually sleeping here? Something had to be going on at home... He'd ask Verna or Ahura later, when Maeve was in bed. "What new Tilan words did you learn?"

"I can write my name, and yours, and Mommy's, and Nora's, and Daryn's, and Hura's, and Hura told me about someone called Ona, but I think she upsets Mommy, so I won't write that anymore, though I don't know who she is- Daddy? What's wrong?"

Norm, who had been carrying Maeve into the sitting room, had frozen in his stride. _Ona?_  That had been the name Maximus had given Maeve at birth, before giving her up. Maeve didn't know anything about that though. Why had _Ahura_  told her that name?

 

* * *

 

Vinatos and Irelle were finishing tidying up the treatment center now the day's work was done. As was normal for them, they weren't speaking much- Vinatos wasn't particularly fond of casual conversation, unless it related to work or Irelle's training. This meant, when loud crashing noises came from the smaller room that housed the computer and all medical records sounded, they were able to hear it clearly.

Irelle tensed, straining to hear more, while Vinatos, scowling, walked straight towards the disturbance. That particular room could be accessed only by his medical staff, and he and young Irelle were the only ones still here, so the sounds meant that they had an intruder. The thought made him seethe. No-one broke in and stole information on _his_  patients, thank you very much.

Irelle kept pace behind him, but he took little notice as he flung open the door to the room of records. Immediately, his arm shot out to prevent Irelle entering the room. Vinatos kept his eyes on the skinny black haired man currently tearing through the computer system frantically.

"Prince Maximus." Vinatos kept his voice as even as possible, letting no trace of the pity or distaste he felt for the troubled man show. Better to keep him calm. "May I help you with something?"

Maximus was still tearing through data on the large screen, barely sparing a glance at Vinatos. "Where's my Ona?"

"I beg your pardon?" Vinatos again kept his voice flat, thanking Randac he'd ceased keeping records of the little girl when those humans had adopted her and her name had been changed.

Maximus looked up at him, eyes wild, chest heaving. "My daughter. The baby my brother stole from me. I want to see her. I know she's not at that bar of his. What's he done with her?!" Maximus' voice was rising in agitation.

Vinatos decided now was _not_  the time to remind Maximus that he had in fact _asked_  Black Bolt to take charge of the child, after his lover, Mara, had passed away in childbirth, six years ago. "I have no idea, your Highness. Shortly after her birth, I discovered she had very little chance of receiving a gift through Terrigenesis, so the king and queen decided it was best to have her adopted into the human world, so she would not know the stigma of being a failed Inhuman. We do not know where she ended up, nor is there any way of finding out." Vinatos was lying through his teeth- obviously, he knew where the child was, as did Irelle- but it would not be in the little one's best interests to allow Maximus near her, particularly not in this state. He prayed young Irelle understood this and remained silent.

Maximus' face reddened with rage. "You... he... He just threw her away like GARBAGE?!" He lunged at Vinatos, grabbing him by the front of his robes, spittle flying from his mouth as he yelled. "Ona was my baby! MINE! I'm not losing anything else because my brother hates me! I want her back!" His hands were round Vinatos' throat now, reason completely gone from his mind.

Vinatos had been on the verge of reaching for one of the 'panic' buttons, which summoned help when dealing with violent patients, when a yellow blur moved in his peripheral vision, and there was an audible crunch, then a grunt of pain. Maximus released Vinatos and staggered backwards, reeling, before collapsing a second later.

Vinatos' bug-like eyes stared at the barely conscious prince, before he turned to look at Irelle. She looked both proud and sheepish, massaging one clenched fist, her knuckles scraped. She gnawed her lip. "Sorry? I didn't think he was going to let go of you, so I just used one of the defensive hits Frank- Nur- taught me. A blow between the eyes stuns someone..."

Rolling his eyes, Vinatos didn't deign to respond to that. She had just assaulted a member of the royal family, but it had been to defend him, so he might just fail to mention it to the king and queen. Possibly. Muttering a quiet 'Thank you', he went to place a call to Medusa, to alert them that Maximus had resurfaced at last- and to warn them that he'd convinced himself his daughter had been 'stolen', not given up willingly.

This added complication could make all their lives a lot more difficult.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Maeve looked at the picture of herself in the little incubator once again, pointing at it. “Mommy, when I was born, why was I sick?”

Verna stroked the back of her daughter’s head, threading her fingers through it to untangle a few spots. “You were in such a hurry to be here that you were born early and not strong enough or big enough to go home yet.”

“How long did I stay in that box thing?”

“About a week,” Verna mused. She flipped the page to the first photo of Maeve outside the incubator but in a warmed bassinet. By then she could wear clothes but still had the feeding tube and oxygen in her nose. “Then you spent another week in this bed to help you stay warm. You were such a tiny little peanut.”

She giggled, claiming she couldn’t be a peanut because she was a little girl. They flipped through another page, the photos becoming more frequent as Verna settled into her role as the mother of an infant for the first time: she took dozens of pictures once they brought Maeve home. There were pictures of Maeve smiling, eating her first semi-solid food in her high chair (most of it on her face), her first few teeth, her first birthday, crawling and walking and reading her first books. When they brought her home she barely fit in a car seat and they had to wait until she put on a few more pounds before they could take her anywhere.

The next few images were the first of Maeve at the apartment in various rockers and bouncers. As the photos continued there were more of Maeve awake with varying facial expressions, primarily confusion at first and then full of smiles. Her hair appeared to sprout like a chia pet around six months, and one of Norm’s favorite pictures he dubbed the “Einstein Picture” in which Maeve’s thick hair stood straight out in a halo around her head like the famous scientist. There were also plenty of various people holding her, including Verna’s mom, Medusa and Black Bolt, even Ahura.

“Mommy, why’s my name Maeve?”

“Because the doctor wouldn’t let us put ‘monkey’ on your birth certificate,” snorted Norm, adjusting his clerical collar. Maeve giggled and gave her dad a mock-exasperated look.

Verna gave him the same look as if they were both ganging up on him somewhat. “Your name means ‘joy,’ and that’s what you are to us. Our joy.”

“Ahura’s got a weird name,” Maeve mused, looking towards the doorframe. They could hear Ahura shuffling around somewhere in the kitchen, probably looking for drinking glasses based on the opening and slamming of cabinet doors. The first few weeks he lived with the Adams as a child, he accidentally woke them a few times due to his inability to gauge how loud or quiet he was being at night. He would also come into Norm and Verna’s room to sleep on the floor in front of the bed like a puppy; Norm guessed it was from fear of being abandoned once again. They never told him to go back to bed or shooed him out, and after Norm carried him back to bed one night Ahura figured he was safe and not in danger of being displaced again. He was so little for the longest time that Norm was able to carry Ahura easily.

“Ahura is from a different culture,” explained Norm. “The Bible has plenty of strange names, but they’re strange to _us_ because we are from a different culture. If you lived with the Inhumans all the time your name would be very different.” _Your name would be Ona,_ he thought to himself.

Maeve flipped open Ahura’s “baby book” to an image of Verna and Ahura seated on their old couch, the one they tossed after the first move from the farm in Pottersville to New York City. Ahura had fallen asleep with his head on Verna’s lap after she gently caressed his wild black hair for about an hour. It was in the early days after they found him, before he even knew his own name. If Norm remembered correctly, sometime within that hour Verna decided they would keep Ahura just like she decided Maeve was their little girl after holding her the first time. It almost seemed like Ahura’s foster-placement and Maeve’s adoption paralleled each other in some ways.

Ahura wandered back in with a tall glass of water in one hand, his phone in the other. He just finished chatting with Irelle during a momentary lull at the infirmary, updating her as to the drama that occurred at home. Norm and Verna loved Irelle and asked about her frequently, even trusting Maeve to Ahura and Irelle for babysitting as needed.

Maeve set the little blue book down again and waved for Ahura’s attention. “ _Name mean?_ ”

He furrowed his eyebrows momentarily., as her sign for _mean_ referred to a characteristic rather than the sign for a definition. Her question appeared to ask if his name was rude or nasty rather than what it meant. Norm clarified the sign as Ahura tucked his phone away.

“ _What does Ahura mean? It’s from some god, I think. It means ‘lord’ in English. In Tilan, it means ‘able to withstand’ or ‘to endure in the face of challenge.’_ ” He tried to think of a sign that was equivalent to the meaning but was unable to think of one without requiring a long explanation. The closest he could think of was “rebellious” but that was a negative connotation. Medusa named him Ahura out of spite towards the Genetic Council, as if the very act of Ahura’s creation and birth was an affront to their judgment.

Anora and Daryn’s names were far less political in comparison, with Anora being named after the wife of Randac and Daryn’s name a portmanteau of Rynda. Names were extremely important to Inhumans, at least to those of New Attilan. Occasionally a Tilanese name was similar to a human name, such as Daryn or Maximus, and even followed some of the human naming conventions. Black Bolt and Medusa’s generation was the first to begin using last names due to the expansion of the population, so most of the last names referenced the generation before.

Seemingly done with the photos Maeve slid off the bed and wandered into her room to play with toys, leaving Ahura with his Earth-parents. They could both tell Ahura needed to talk about what happened based on the urgency in his face.

“ _So tell me what happened at home, son,_ ” began Norm. Ever since they reconnected nearly eight years ago both Norm and Verna’s ability to sign improved, especially after not using it for so long.

“ _Anora broke my action figure, the one you gave me for my first birthday with you? Mom told her to apologize but I got mad, then Dad told me to grow up. It’s like they don’t even care what’s mine or about the things that are important to me._ ”

Norm nodded in the same way he did when counseling a parishioner. He tugged on his salt-and-pepper beard to straighten it, an absent-minded habit. “ _I’m guessing it wasn’t the toy that upset you, but Medusa and Black Bolt’s attitude toward the situation that upset you so._ ”

“ _I mean, at the time I was mad about the toy,_ ” Ahura shrugged. “ _But now I’m more mad that they won’t let me be my own person._ ”

“ _What do you mean?_ ”

“ _I dunno, like...like sometimes I will want to do something with just Irelle, then mom will tell me to take the twins or Dad will say I can’t because I have to work that night. They don’t give me any choice. And then when I try to do something independently they get mad at me._ ”

Due to the lack of an extra chair in the bedroom, Ahura sat down with his back against a closet door so he could see both of them.

“ _This has been weighing on you for some time, I’d imagine,_ ” speculated Norm. “ _You see others your age, some even younger, living on their own and free to do as they want, but you have obligations that you never signed up for. That’s certainly frustrating._ ”

Ahura sniffled and nodded, trying to hide his minutely quivering lip. Norm provided the kind of attention and understanding Ahura craved but hardly received from his own parents.

“ _You’re in a difficult place, sweetie,_ ” continued Verna. “ _I’m not sure what it’s like for Inhumans, but you spent half of your childhood with us and were held to human standards. That’s hard to ignore when it made up so much of your childhood._ ” Verna loved the sign that meant Inhumans. It was a combination of two signs: ‘moon-people.’ The sign for Attilan that Ahura created was similar, a combined ‘moon-city’ or ‘new-moon-city’ to refer to New Attilan.

Ahura nodded again and wiped at his eye. His father would never approve of Ahura crying like this in his presence. Black Bolt hardly tolerated emotion, it seemed.

“ _I think I want to move out of the Quiet Room and away from them,_ ” Ahura sighed. It was something he’d thought about for the past year or so. “ _Maybe Irelle could move in with me._ ”

Norm and Verna froze at the unexpected confession. There was so much of this situation that neither of them knew: Were unmarried Inhumans allowed to live together? In some ways, marriage and courtship in Attilan were more conservative than parts of humanity. And what could Ahura do to support himself and possibly Irelle? The rent in New York City began in the thousands per month. Did Inhumans pay rent in New Attilan?

Norm reached behind his neck and undid the clasp that held his clerical collar together while he considered his response. “ _Thats a big decision to think about. Have you talked with Irelle about it?_ ”

Ahura shook his head. “ _Not yet._ ”

“ _Talk with her first and see how she feels about it. Think about what you’ll do if she says no, since that will change your finances._ ” Norm looked to his wife to silently ask if he’d forgotten anything. If Ahura were one of his parishioners, Norm would tell him to pray about the subject.

Verna stood and went to Ahura to kiss the top of his head. She left the room to check on her daughter and see what the little girl was singing to, a made-up song about one of her toys it sounded like. Maeve’s room needed some decluttering; maybe they could do so this weekend and see what could be donated or given to the nursery at the church. They kept many of her baby items: the pictures the twins drew for her while she was getting stronger in the incubator, her first outfit that was microscopic but still too big for her, even one of her premie diapers just so Verna could marvel at how small Maeve was.

“Maeve, I’m going to make spaghetti for dinner; do you want to help me make the sauce?”

Maeve dropped her toy immediately and hopped up to follow her mom into the kitchen, forgetting entirely about Ona.

 

* * *

 

Maximus woke with a splitting headache that felt like it pulsed behind his eyes and deep in his skull. For a moment he was unsure where he was, then recognized the blank walls of New Attilan’s prison. The back of his head felt tender with a solid lump forming where someone or something struck him. He lifted his arm and stopped at the unexpected weight on his wrist.

Attached was another medicinal shackle, similar to the one he wore during his year-long sentence after kidnapping Daryn. This one was smaller and appeared, cosmetically, more like a regular bracelet than the old one.

Maximus tried tugging the damn thing off, pulling it until his hand turned red and it felt like he would de-skin his fingers.

“It’s not coming off,” a slow voice said from outside his cell. Maximus looked up to see his father standing in front of the door, guards flanking him on either side. Agon showed him no pity this time, his face blank and cold.

“Father, remove this absurd device!” Maximus tried pouting, holding his arm in front of him in an attempt to look pitiful.

“No,” Agon said, his tone even. He didn’t buy his son’s act for a moment. “Time and again you have shown that you are incapable of self-regulation. There is no reason for any of us to trust you, and you frequently disappoint me. The device will remain on your wrist permanently, regardless of what improvements you show. It will release upon confirmation of your death.”

Maximus stood and ran at the door, slamming into it. “Let me out of here!”

Agon shook his head and turned away. In the eight years since his return, the only emotion he felt now for his youngest son was sorrow. He always felt like he failed Maximus in some way, both of his sons, but at least with Black Bolt there was hope. With Maximus, Agon only felt shame.

“Father, please!”

Agon ignored him and continued walking, leaving Maximus to bang on the door and scream.


	7. Chapter 7

Maximus paced back and forth in the cell like a caged tiger, constantly fidgeting with the medicinal bracelet now shackled to his wrist. There _had_  to be a way to get the damned thing off! Occasionally, he looked up at the unfamiliar Nuhumans guarding his cell, contemplating using his powers to compel them to let him out- but then what would he do? He was in one of the lowest cells of New Attilan, he was fairly certain, no doubt the cell would block his mind-control abilities, and even if he could escape these guards, and any others sent to stop him, and  _if_ he could make it out of the city and back to the mainland unnoticed- what then? He'd still be stuck with the damned medication dispenser bracelet. Fuming, he slammed his shackled wrist into the glass wall of the cell. Maybe _that_  would damage the bracelet his father had forced him to wear, or at least reduce the dosage of the _poison_  Agon was determined to force into him.

Medicine indeed, he scoffed inwardly. That was what his 'family' told him six and a half years ago, that he needed to take medicine, when all they really wanted was to cloud his mind, make him obedient to their cruelty. They'd fooled his Mara too.... His eyes welled, then the tears burned away in a fresh swell of anger. They'd brainwashed his beautiful Mara, turned her against him. It was _their_  fault she had died! And to make matters worse, little Ona, _his_  daughter, the last piece of Mara he'd had left, had been taken away, given to some unknown _human_  family, and he'd probably never see her again! Blood-boiling anger warred with crushing despair as he thought about his poor lost Mara, and their little girl Ona... His thoughts _had_  been distorted in that dark time, all those years ago, but it was because of the pills he'd thought he had to take, not because of his so-called mental health issues, and now, recalling it was like viewing distorted photographs- he remembered several arguments with Mara, then seeing her bleeding on the floor in their apartment, then being here in New Attilan, looking at tiny baby Ona in an incubator, knowing Mara was dead... then he'd found himself back in the human world, alone, wandering aimlessly. The sharper details of those events was lost. He could only assume he'd left New Attilan after Black Bolt, or Agon, had decided to give baby Ona away. They'd probably decided they didn't want any part of _him_  around, and of course he'd had no say in it!

Maximus ran his hands through his hair in agitation. Where was Ona, his little girl, now? Was she happy, or even safe? He'd heard horrific stories of what happened to children in human foster care, and to think of his own helpless little girl potentially in that situation... it made him sick. And of course, his saint-like 'brother' wouldn't have thought of that at all. Vinatos had told Maximus that no-one knew where Ona was now. _Typical_ , Maximus thought bitterly. _Black Bolt doesn't even care to check on his only niece once in a while. He doesn't care if she lives or dies, because she's my child and he hates her like he hates me_. Ona probably knew nothing of her Inhuman heritage, or her birth parents.

He shook his head rapidly. That couldn't continue. He had nothing else left, no-one who cared for him. But his daughter would, surely? Once she knew who he was. She would be so happy to know her father... He had to find Ona, bring her back home with him, where she belonged. He had to get out of here first though...

Eyeing the guards once more, an idea came to him. He began prying at the medication bracelet again, letting his nails- and the somewhat sharp edge of the bracelet- scrape the skin of his inner wrist, over and over and over. The pain made him wince and grimace, but he kept on until he drew blood, then he redoubled his efforts. The guards would not be able to tell, from outside, whether this was an attempt to pry the bracelet off, or an attempt to slice his own artery.

Blood dripped to the floor, the splattering sound drawing the attention of both guards, who cried out in alarm.

Maximus kept his head down, hiding his smirk, continuing his efforts at hacking into his own arm, well aware that he wasn't doing any serious harm, but knowing it wouldn't look that way from the guards' perspective. They were shouting for him to stop. He sped up his 'frenzied' self-harm, muttering incomprehensibly to himself, playing up the 'Mad Maximus' angle.

After a few seconds of rapid debate between the panicked guards, the cell door hissed open and they raced in to restrain him.

Maximus immediately looked up, sending a powerful command into both their minds, drowning out all else. _SLEEP_.

The guards dropped like stones and Maximus raced off, readying his powers to cloud the minds of any others he saw, hoping that would be enough to get him out of here. At least his guards hadn't alerted anyone else- he hoped. He staunched the blood dripping from his lacerated wrist as he ran, not wanting to leave a trail. He examined it quickly- barely more than a flesh wound, nothing to worry about. Moving casually, as if he hadn't a care in the world, but keeping his head down, mentally 'suggesting' to anyone who stared at him to forget having seen him, he made his way through New Attilan, to the bridge that led to the mainland. _So far, so good_. He was halfway across the bridge when he became aware of a commotion back in the city. He smothered a laugh- they were only beginning to search for him now! Fools. New Attilan would do so much better with him in charge... Reclaiming the throne would be the best thing for his people, eventually. But first he had to find his lost little girl.

Ordering the human border patrol police to ignore him, Maximus slipped anonymously into the heaving masses that filled the streets of New York City, pondering how he could begin tracking down Ona- the human world was huge, after all. He frowned. Regardless of where she had ended up, he had to assume she'd been given to an orphange or foster home here in New York, and chances were her true identity, her _species_ , was a complete secret- no humans would want to adopt an Inhuman child, not with the human race's predisposition to bigotry. He could begin checking such places, find out who had an unidentified baby girl, abandoned, six years ago, but that would take time. Time he didn't want to waste- he needed to get his daughter back, safely with him, and soon. Black Bolt and Medusa _had_  to know where they'd hidden Ona away, but as if they would tell him!

 _Ahura_. Unbidden, the name of his eldest nephew came to him. _He_  would at least have a vague idea of where his baby cousin had been sent to, surely? And Maximus knew, from past experience, that he could use his powers to control Ahura, briefly. He could get information from him to start his attempt to rescue poor little Ona and bring her home. (Fine, he didn't currently _have_  a home, but he could obtain an apartment for them both soon enough, one way or another.)

Ahura, Maximus knew, divided his time between the Quiet Room with his parents and siblings, New Attilan (with his lover Irelle) and... somewhere in New York with his 'Earth-parents', the humans who had taken him in as a child, that the boy seemed to feel an odd attachment to, even after all these years. Getting to Ahura inside the Quiet Room would be impossible, and Maximus had no intention of returning to New Attilan and being unjustly imprisoned again, but the home of Ahura's human 'parents' should be easy to find. What was their name again, Andrews, Adnams.... Adams! That was it. Norm and Verna Adams. Maximus grinned. He'd track them down, through manipulating or bribing stupid human officials, or hacking their pathetic computerized residency records at the city hall, lie in wait, then corner Ahura before or after a visit there, and make him reveal what he knew of Maximus' daughter's whereabouts. Someone in Black Bolt's family had to know _something_  about where Ona was, surely? And in the end, Maximus would get his little Ona back, and they'd be a family again, as they should always have been.

He'd get his daughter back, and Black Bolt would never ruin Maximus' family again.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Maeve stood at the front door with her backpack, fiddling with the straps as she waited for Norm or Verna to take her to the Quiet Room for school. The room was still somewhat dark as Ahura continued to sleep on the couch, only his messy black hair visible with the plaid blanket pulled up to his face.

Norm rushed into the room, flustered at falling behind in his morning routine. Today he had multiple meetings scheduled at the church, primarily budget meetings, and somewhere in between he had a sermon to prepare. Before all of that, he still had to get his daughter to school.

“Daddy, how does Hura know when he’s supposed to wake up?” Maeve let the straps of her backpack fall and began twisting back and forth so the bag would swing.

Norm paused for a moment then rummaged through some drawers, somewhat distracted. “Um, I’ve seen him set his phone under his pillow so it vibrates and wakes him up. When he lived with us, mommy or I would wake him up. You grab something to eat, monkey?”

Maeve shook her head and practically skipped into the kitchen, not worried in the slightest about the time. Norm turned around and opened the fridge for a few juice boxes while Maeve opened the pantry door in search of a granola bar or the Pop-Tarts she knew mommy buried somewhere. Her parents had to hide them because Maeve had a habit of only eating one at a time and leaving the other still in the box, then forgetting about it until it went stale. Norm reached for the top shelf and found the box, taking out an unopened wrapper and handing it to Maeve so she could feed herself and he could finish getting ready.

As Maeve ate, Verna dried her hair in the bathroom with the dryer. When Ahura lived with them, at first she tried to do things quietly so she did not wake him, then realized the absurdity of trying to be quiet near him. Norm stood in the doorway until she flipped off the dryer.

“I have meetings all day today; can you pick up Maeve after school?”

Verna reviewed her own schedule in her head. “Yeah, I ca—no, wait, today I promised mom I’d go with her to Jersey for something or other, I don’t remember what it was exactly.”

“Shoot,” Norm muttered. “I can get her after my last service but it’d be well after six. Do you think they’d mind if she stayed for dinner? I don’t want to impose on them.”

Verna shrugged. “I can text Medusa and ask. What about Pope? If he doesn’t have anything going on today, we can ask him to pick her up. Maybe that’ll prompt them all to apologize and figure out what’s going on.”

She set the dryer down and followed Norm back into the living room, nudging Ahura’s shoulder.

“Huh?” Ahura popped his head from underneath the blanket and yawned as Norm flipped on a lamp. Verna gave him a moment to sit up and shake off the haze of sleep before relaying any information.

“ _Good morning, sweetie. You sleep okay?_ ”

Ahura nodded, his eyes still somewhat bloodshot from fatigue.

“ _Would you mind doing us a favor? Neither of us can pick Maeve up from school today; would you mind picking her up around four?_ ”

“ _At the Quiet Room?_ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” nodded Verna. “ _It would really help us out, honey. We wouldn’t be able to get her home until about 8._ ”

Ahura clenched his jaw as he thought about it. He wouldn’t mind, so long as he didn’t have to see Black Bolt.

“ _I guess so. Do I just bring her back here?_ ”

Verna smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “ _Yup, just come back here. Irelle can come over if she wants to, and I’ll leave some money for pizza on the counter. Thank you, sweetie._ ”

Ahura grinned at her and fumbled around with the blanket so he could go back to snoozing. As he settled in, Maeve wriggled between Verna and the couch to give Ahura a quick hug, somewhat laying across him due to the angle and the backpack restricting her movements. She left crumbs on his sleeve as she pulled away and waved goodbye.

“Okay, lets boogie, monkey. Say bye to mommy.” Norm stood at the door with his briefcase and shook his keys as Maeve quickly hugged her mom and ran to her dad. “Bye, hon. See you tonight.”

Out the door and into the street, Norm gripped Maeve’s hand tight to help her keep pace with him. They had a bit of a walk to get to the subway station, and if he missed the train the next one would be over ten minutes away. Of the four pastors at the church he served, Norm was the only one with an elementary-age child so the lead pastor was always patient with him. Either way, Norm did not like to be late.

Unfortunately they made it to the station just as their train pulled away from the track. “Darn, it’s just not our morning, is it?”

Maeve looked up at her dad and smiled as if to reassure him. Since they had some time, she peeked around the platform at some of the individuals standing or sitting against the wall, some with messy backpacks or tattered clothing. They took the train so often that she recognized most of them, and was not afraid to talk with them if time permitted. One man she did not recognize, and he looked out of place as he stood leaning against an electrical box of some kind. She shook her dad’s hand to get his attention.

“Daddy, can I have some money? I want to give it to somebody.”

“The Lord prompting you towards charity this morning, monkey?”

Maeve nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Norm fished a few dollar bills from his wallet and gave them to his daughter. Maeve liked to share, and Norm never discouraged her from sharing with ones who needed it the most. “Hurry back before the next train comes. I’ll be right here.”

He watched her make a beeline towards the electrical box, the bills gripped tightly in her hand. Norm could see the right foot and shoulder of someone standing behind the box but not the man’s face. If Maeve got too close to the individual, Norm would step in. Otherwise he let her alone.

Maeve looked up at the man and waved, holding the crumpled wad of dollar bills up to him.

“What’s this for?” The man eyed her with suspicion, his blue eyes squinting.

“It’s for you, you look hungry. And we are supposed to share, because Jesus said we should: ‘Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that He Himself said, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"

The man nodded briefly and plucked the bills from Maeve’s hand, revealing a silver band around his wrist.

“I like your bracelet,” she said. “It’s pretty. What’s your name?”

“Max.”

“Hi, Max! I’m-“ She stopped when Norm called to her from the blinking platform, indicating their train would arrive in moments. “Oh, I have to go. It was nice meeting you!”

Maeve turned and somewhat bounced back to her dad, happy that she could help someone in need that morning. Since they were running late, the platform was not as crowded as usual but Norm still held tight to his little girl’s hand until they were safely aboard the train and she was seated on his lap. “So what verse did you give him?”

“The one from Acts.”

Norm ran through a catalogue of verses he kept tucked away in his mind. “‘It is more blessed to give’?”

Maeve nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Good girl. That was a good verse to give him.”

She swung her feet beneath her, then flipped open Norm’s jacket to the inside pocket where she knew he kept his phone. Since they had a few minutes, she wanted to play a game to pass the time. Norm unlocked the phone and tapped the anagram game icon to open it.

They passed the remainder of the trip in silence, Maeve engrossed in her game and Norm idly humming or fixing his glasses. As soon as the train stopped in Union Station they stepped off as quickly as possible, knocking on the side-entrance door. Black Bolt opened the door, his face dark and tired.

“Good morning, Black Bolt. Sorry we are running a little behind this morning,” Norm smiled. “Everybody doing okay? Pope told us some of what happened.”

Black Bolt nodded and waved them both inside, taking them upstairs to some of the offices. As soon as he opened the door to the lesson room and Maeve saw the twins, she shrugged off her bag and ran to them to play with whatever toys they had spread out on the table.

Norm grinned at his daughter and sighed in a mocking way. “Well, I guess I’m old news. This afternoon, neither Verna nor I can pick her up so Pope agreed to do so. We were going to ask if you wouldn’t mind if she stayed for dinner but I didn’t want to impose.”

Instead of replying, Black Bolt gestured for Norm to follow him down to the conference room. He considered rejecting the request, but the seriousness in Black Bolt’s eyes made Norm hesitate. Inside the conference room, Agon sat to the immediate right of the head of the table and Medusa to the immediate left. Black Bolt nudged Norm into the head seat and took his own next to Agon.

“Is everything okay?”

“Norm, there is something we need to discuss with you,” Medusa began, gently. Agon, always direct and blunt, went straight to the heart of the matter.

“My son has resurfaced,” Agon stated flatly. “Maeve’s biological father.”

Norm felt the back of his neck grow hot, his face blanching considerably. He held on to the arms of the chair until his knuckles became white. “Maximus? He’s back?”

All of his worries about meetings and being late dissipated in an instant, replaced by fear for his daughter. He wanted to run back upstairs and hold her close, never letting her go until he knew Maximus was gone once again.

“Where is he?”

Medusa pat Norm’s wrist to assure him. “He is in a cell in New Attilan. Agon placed a permanent medical shackle on him and he will remain there until he stabilizes.”

The attempt did little to allay his fear. Norm held his hand over his mouth to ensure he did not vomit. “Does he know where Maeve is?”

“No, he doesn’t even know her name. Vinatos told him that she was adopted by humans but that he does not know where or by whom. She is safe, I promise you.”

Maximus returning was Norm’s nightmare, and now it played out before him. They spent hours planning and preparing for any kind of disaster after they brought her home as an infant, praying that Maximus would stay away.

“I need to call my wife,” he croaked, his hands visibly shaking. “She needs to know.”

Agon held up his hand as if he were about to make some kind of ruling. “Maximus will remain in custody until he is able to self-regulate; if that never happens, then he will not be released. The medical shackle is a permanent fixture, and can be removed only upon his death.”

“Even if he were released,” Medusa continued, “he would not be allowed near Maeve. According to Vinatos, he does not remember that he renounced his claim to her himself, which we are using as a gauge of coherency.”

Norm sat quietly for a long while, still feeling nauseous. He only remembered Maximus as “the Mad,” and did not meet him during his year of lucidity. The unfocused, darting eyes haunted Norm for months after they met in the old apartment when Maximus kidnapped baby Daryn.

Medusa squeezed his hand. “Maeve is extremely bright, Norm. If her routine changes or you are upset, she will notice. Go to work as usual and keep to your regular routine. Black Bolt told me that you’d like for Ahura to pick her up this afternoon; we will send Irelle and Frank McGee with him until you are home this evening. I will call Verna, do not fret.”

Norm nodded, standing with Agon and Black Bolt. Black Bolt placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he lead Norm out of the Quiet Room and off to work.

 

* * *

 

Apart from alcohol, Maximus hated human food. Everything about it tasted manufactured and synthetic, even ‘organic’ food that some humans preferred. It was a somewhat hypocritical feeling, as all of the food in Attilan (when it was located on the moon) was synthetically made and engineered. Tilanese food always tasted cleaner to Maximus.

He crumpled up a wrapper of food he managed to choke down and tossed it behind him. The teenage human slave at the counter called it a “wrap” of some kind, with meat and cheese in the middle. It was the cheapest Maximus could afford with the dollar bills the little girl at the train station gave him.

Maximus could have easily mind-controlled the boy into giving him whatever he wanted, but too many humans milled about waiting for their food. Pests, all of them. One of these loathsome beings had his daughter, and Maximus would do whatever necessary to get Ona back.

Ahura would know who had her. His nephew was privy to all kinds of secrets Black Bolt kept, secrets designed to ruin Maximus and control his life. That’s why Black Bolt stole his daughter away and gave her to worthless humans, denying her a chance to learn of her true heritage. Even if Ahura did not know exactly who had his daughter, Maximus could at least get a starting point from him.

But how? Boltagon men were all formidable opponents, even his idiot nephew. Ahura showed considerable strength as a young boy, with astounding mental control. The fact that he could conjure multiple projections of himself (“ghosts” as he called them) without weakening would make wrenching the information difficult from him. No longer could Maximus merely slip into Ahura’s mind with ease, not like he could when Ahura was a child.

He would have to use brute force.

Weaken Ahura until he could no longer fight, or catch him off guard and knock him out quickly. Yes, that is what Maximus must do.

Humans stared as Maximus muttered to himself and paced, working himself up into agitation. He knew what they thought of him, that he was “crazy” and insane, but it was the medicine that made him crazy. It left him feeling hazy and unable to think clearly, at least clearly enough that he could see how much Black Bolt wanted to ruin him. All of this was Black Bolt’s fault: Mara’s death, Ona’s forced adoption into the pathetic human world, the damn contraption on his wrist.

Once Maximus kicked a trash can, a burly human with a tall hat told him to get lost, that Maximus was scaring people and he needed to move on. Maximus yelled out something, he didn’t remember what, and began walking once again to the address he found. He would wait until Ahura passed him while going to the humans’ apartment, no matter how long it would take.  
—  
Maximus saw Ahura leave the humans’ apartment in the early afternoon, his face fixed on his cellphone. The foot traffic around him was busy with, Maximus assumed, humans leaving work for the day. Ahura sent a text then pocketed his phone, a grin on his face.

Ahura made a stop on the way to the train station, some type of bakery. For a moment Maximus panicked thinking Ahura went inside to have someone call his mother or father, but then Ahura emerged chewing on some kind of sweet. Maximus resumed his mission, reinforcing his psychic dampeners that kept people from noticing him.

The train station proved to be the most difficult aspect, as he had to monitor Ahura’s movement from an adjacent car. Most of the ride Ahura spent on his phone save for a homeless peasant asking him for change. Ahura shrugged then broke his sweet in half to give to the man, who nibbled on it and walked off.

At the correct stop, Maximus scrambled through the throngs of humans trying to get into the car. Since he forced everyone to ignore him, they did not pay attention to who they were running into, making movement tough. He caught up with Ahura at the stop closest to New Attilan, then went an alternate route so Maximus could grab Ahura and yank him into an alley.

Maximus waited in the shadows until Ahura passed by the alleyway, whereupon he struck Ahura in the back of the head with what appeared to be a thick broom handle. Ahura’s steps faltered, giving Maximus time to wrap his arm around Ahura’s neck in a chokehold and drag his nephew back into the alleyway.

Slamming Ahura into a large metal dumpster, Maximus threw Ahura to the ground just as his eyes turned bright blue and a “ghost” appeared. To break Ahura’s concentration, Maximus curb-stomped Ahura’s hand, feeling the bones crunch beneath his foot.

Ahura cried out and held his hand close, the ghost disappearing instantly. Maximus continued his assault by kicking him in the stomach and ribs, knocking the wind from him nephew. With Ahura too weak to call on one of his ghosts, Maximus knelt with his knee on Ahura’s sternum and wailed on Ahura’s face until blood dripped from his nose. Ahura tried to fight back with his undamaged hand, landing a solid hit to Maximus’ jaw, but not hard enough to do any damage. Maximus grabbed Ahura’s arm and snapped it at the wrist, rendering both hands useless.

Ahura cried out again in pain, trying to pronounce ‘help’ as best he could. In his dazed state, he was unable to form the word properly or yell out with any kind of force.

Maximus wrapped his wiry hands around Ahura’s throat to quiet him, squeezing until he could no longer feel the muscles contract. Ahura flailed and kicked at Maximus as his vision grew dark and his mental blocks slowly crumpled, allowing Maximus to mentally force his way inside Ahura’s brain.

He did not need to search long for the information he wanted. Almost like a filing system, Maximus forced Ahura’s brain to give him all the information he had on Ona, starting with her birth. He saw the memories as Ahura did, of newborn Ona in her incubator, then again outside of it. The memories changed to Ona at a residence of some kind, which gave Maximus hope: not only did Ahura know who had Ona, he apparently kept in contact with them. Finally, his memory focused on the face of Ona’s captors, a face Maximus recognized.

The woman across the hall.

In his old apartment, his neighbors across the hall were Ahura’s foster parents for some time after the Genetic Council sent him to Earth as a child. Verna, was her name. Norm was her husband. The owners of the apartment he currently searched for. Maximus followed the line of memories, seeing the humans carrying his Ona as she grew into a toddler and into a little girl. The girl at the train station.

Maximus fought the urge to cry. He _spoke_ with his daughter, without even knowing it. She had Mara’s eyes, his face, Rynda’s dark blonde hair. Ona was a beautiful little girl.

Suddenly the memories stopped and Maximus was ejected from Ahura’s mind. While searching through Ahura’s memories, he did not pay attention to how tightly he gripped Ahura’s throat. Maximus let go, but Ahura was no longer breathing.

“Nephew,” Maximus barked at him, tapping the side of Ahura’s face. It was absurd, Ahura would obviously not hear him, but that was not important to Maximus in the moment. He tried shaking Ahura’s chest, pausing to feel it rise or fall, any kind of sign that Ahura was alive.

Feeling none, Maximus scrambled off his nephew’s body and paced, muttering to himself once again and pulling at his hair. “No, nonono, I killed him, I killed my nephew,” he repeated to himself. “Ahura! Wake up!”

Maximus knelt once again and shook Ahura, praying for his nephew to wake. He never intended to _kill_ his nephew, only rough him up a bit until he had the information he needed. Maximus was no healer, he did not know what to do to revive Ahura beyond blowing into his mouth to simulate breathing.

It was worth an attempt, at least. He knelt over Ahura again and pinched his nose, breathing into his nephew’s mouth with a hand on his chest to feel it rise. Once he felt it deflate, Maximus tried again, then a third and fourth time until Ahura hiccuped and sputtered. Ahura did not wake, but he began breathing on his own once again. Barely.

He considered leaving his nephew on the ground, allowing someone else to find him. Maximus paced once again, stopping every few seconds to ensure Ahura was still breathing. He felt bad, ashamed that he accidentally harmed his nephew far beyond his original intent. Of the Boltagon family, Ahura was often the only one who showed Maximus any compassion.

Instead of leaving him, Maximus hauled Ahura into his arms. The bridge leading into New Attilan was not far, a few blocks, so Maximus could simply set Ahura on or near the bridge, then walk away. All Maximus had to do was mentally shield himself from view.

He looked at the bridge for a few moments. If Maximus were to simply drop Ahura in front of the guards, it would look strange for Ahura to suddenly come into view. Instead he followed the path around the bridge that led to the river below, placing Ahura on a small patch of grass rather than the rocks or gravel. Checking his breathing one last time, Maximus took off once again in search of the apartment that held his daughter.

 

* * *

 

  
The lack of texts from Ahura left Irelle feeling worried and fidgety as she waited in the apartment for him. He rarely responded in more than a few minutes, or if he did it was because he was working the Quiet Room or helping the queen with something.

She could see that his phone received her messages but were not yet read, and considered that maybe he turned off his phone or set it down somewhere without realizing she messaged him. Ahura was more than an hour late at this point, and they were supposed to have Maeve home by now.

Irelle sent a quick text to Medusa to ask if she heard anything from him. Maybe Ahura went to the Quiet Room first rather than to New Attilan. When Medusa’s message returned that Ahura had not been by and Maeve was still there, Irelle began to fret.

“What you all worked up about?” Frank McGee, the adoptive father of Irelle and her twin sister, looked up from a stack of papers. His gruff voice always sounded funny to Irelle, as he was not a particularly large man. Without the sunglasses that covered his eyes, the rest of his face had a yellow alien-like appearance.

“Ahura hasn’t texted me back and no one has heard from him,” Irelle said with her arms crossed, fighting the urge to pace.

“Can’t you track his phone with that thing? I’ve seen you two do so before to find each other.”

Irelle paused and opened her phone, looking for the app that allowed her to see Ahura’s location. They only ever used it when they needed to meet somewhere and had difficulty finding each other, such as at a park or crowded location. With the app pulled up, she breathed a quick sigh of relief as she saw he was at the bridge leading from New York into New Attilan. The little bubble did not move, so maybe he was seated somewhere? There were a few benches in that area. But why would he not respond?

“It looks like he’s on the bridge, erm—no, next to it. That’s odd,” Irelle mused aloud. “Look at this.”

Frank put on his sunglasses so his eyes would not cause a glare on the screen. He looked at the blue location bubble, which would be _underneath_ the bridge or in the river itself, if he had to guess properly. In Frank’s past life as a New York City Detective, anything involving a river was bad news. “Come on, let’s go look for him.”

They walked quickly through the hall of their flat, down the steps and out the main door. Due to his work with the Royal Guard, they lived relatively close to the center of New Attilan, and Irelle struggled to keep pace with Frank’s stride. Every few seconds Irelle checked her phone to see if the location bubble moved, but it stayed it the same spot.

Once they reached the spot on the bridge that indicated Ahura’s location, they both looked around and asked the guards if either had seen him. Both guards denied that they’d seen the crown prince, saying they would remain alert for him.

Frank nodded towards the path that led below the bridge, allowing Irelle to lead. The rocks and stones of the shore stabbed at her thin-soled shoes as she tried to avoid the muddier spots. The closer they came to the designated location bubble, the faster she walked until she saw the outline of a figure laying in a thick patch of grass.

“Ahura!” Irelle ran forward and kneeled next to the body of her love, unsure what to do. She never encountered a medical emergency outside of the infirmary, especially one without Vinatos overseeing her every move.

Frank jogged up behind her to survey the area for a few seconds, then ran back to call for the guards and for someone from the infirmary. He bent at his knees and placed two fingers against Ahura’s kneck to confirm that he was alive. Frank found a pulse, weak but steady. The deep purple bruises on Ahura’s neck, so deep they almost appeared black, told Frank that someone tried to strangle the prince.

Irelle gently raised one of Ahura’s eyelids and used the flashlight on her phone to look into his eyes. His eyes reacted very little to the light, which could indicate a concussion or even brain damage. When one of the guards bent to pick Ahura up, she shoved his hands away. “No! His neck could be broken, you’d make it worse.”

She further examined what she could see of his body. Dry blood flecked around his left ear, with various oozing cuts and scrapes around his face. His skin felt hot to her touch, and when she lay her ear against his chest Ahura’s breathing sounded ragged. That could mean any number of things: a collapsed lung or one filling with blood, internal hemorrhaging. Irelle could not see any visible lacerations that would indicate Ahura was stabbed, at least not in the front.

Vinatos called for Irelle from the bridge, guiding a medical transport table behind him. Once they had the prince on the table it would be able to monitor vital signs and begin scanning for broken bones or internal damage. He felt along Ahura’s neck and spine to make sure neither were broken, then permitted the guards to lift Ahura onto the table.

“Irelle, contact the King and Queen, then Gorgon to raise a security alert,” Vinatos shouted over the scuffling of feet and commotion his presence typically caused. When Irelle stood frozen in her place, clapped his hand in front of her eyes. “Irelle! Now!”

She snapped out of her fear and hurried to keep up with the mobile unit, dialing Medusa’s number. The phone rang twice, then she could hear the twins, Maeve, and Medusa laughing and conversing in the background. Instead of a voice answering the phone, Irelle heard the tone of a button being pressed, which meant Black Bolt answered the call.

“King Black Bolt? I found Ahura, he’s hurt,” she said, not hiding the fear in her voice. Some shuffling occurred on the other end and Medusa came on the line.

“Irelle? Black Bolt said Ahura is hurt.”

“I found him under the New Attilan bridge, he looks like someone attacked him,” she huffed, scurrying behind Vinatos. “There are marks all over his neck and he was barely breathing and, and his hands look so mangled, and-“

“Calm down, honey, we will be right there. Take a deep breath and just stay with him,” Medusa instructed, not a trace of fear in her voice. Having spent so much time around the Queen, Irelle knew that Medusa was terrified.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short. Sorry!

Medusa smiled warmly at her little niece as Maeve proudly presented a piece of written work, the childlike handwriting written completely in Tilan, the first time the little girl had written a whole essay without needing to ask for help or slipping back into English. She began reading through it, skimming, looking for any grammatical or spelling errors, while Maeve bounced on her toes, looking both anxious and excited. If there was one thing Medusa had noticed since she'd started teaching Maeve, it was that the little girl didn't like getting things wrong.

As she read through the piece (a sweet story about a little girl and a stray puppy, clearly made up by Maeve), Anora leaned over her shoulder, wanting to read it for herself, no doubt. Medusa folded the page over and gave her daughter a stern glare. "Aren't you meant to be working on your own story, Anora?"

The red-haired girl pouted. "I did some. But it's past four o'clock, Mora. Lessons are over! I'll do more writing tomorrow."

Startled, Medusa looked at the wall clock. Was it really past 4PM already? The morning had passed with math and science studies, then, after lunch, while the children worked on their comprehensive writing, she had busied herself going over an update on the terms and conditions relating to an alcohol-serving license, that, as owners of a bar, she and Blackagar had to agree to and sign for legal reasons. Really, she'd mused as she went through it, it seemed human regulations for such things changed every other week! Turning her attention back to Anora, she smiled again. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I lost track of time. Alright, yes, lessons can be over. Do you want me to look after your story until tomorrow?" She knew from previous experience that while Daryn would keep his schoolwork safe in his room, if Anora kept hold of hers, it would almost certainly end up 'recycled' into a drawing or a paper aeroplane, and be lost.

The little girl grinned, then, using her telekinetic abilities, floated the two sheets of paper over to her mother, who caught them, shaking her head indulgently. "Lazy girl. Would it really have been less effort to walk back round the table and pick it up?"

"Yep!" Anora nodded determinedly. "It would have!" Smirking, she retrieved Daryn's work the same way, leaving both stories in Medusa's grasp. "Come on Daryn, Mae, let's go play until Mae goes home!"

"Daryn, did you actually put your name on your story this time?" Medusa called, as all three children darted from the makeshift schoolroom.

Daryn skidded to a halt, face red. "No. Sorry, I forgot. Mine's the story about L-"

"Let me guess. Lockjaw." Medusa just barely stopped herself rolling her eyes. Daryn's original stories _always_  featured Lockjaw in some way, shape or form. "Go on, go play." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

Needing no further encouragement, Daryn scampered after the girls, who had already disappeared- probably going to play in Anora's room. Once she was alone, and had tidied away the school supplies, Medusa stifled a sigh. Ahura had been asked by Norm and Verna to collect Maeve today, as they could not, and it would be the first time Medusa's eldest son had been back to the Quiet Room since he'd stormed out, days ago. Just the thought made Medusa nervous. Would Ahura still be angry? Would he refuse to see her, or Black Bolt? What was she meant to say if he _did_ stay long enough to see her?

Although, knowing Ahura and his moods as she did, she thought it highly possible that he would 'forget' to collect Maeve out of spite, stubbornness, or unwillingness to see his parents, and simply leave her here until Norm and Verna collected her. With that in mind, as Medusa went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner, inwardly cursing herself for having lost track of time and thinking of what she could make quickly, that didn't require huge amounts of preparation and would cook fairly quickly. She settled on stew, because it was relatively easy to make, allowing her thoughts to wander, mostly focusing on Ahura and his problems. She gathered ingredients and cooking supplies from the fridge and cupboards while keeping one ear on the childrens' chatter, and she made enough to feed Maeve, just in case Ahura did decide not to come and collect her. She was dicing up the meat to go into the stew when she heard Black Bolt enter the apartment, and set down the knife to go and greet him.

He held his cell phone in his hand, looking worried, immediately holding the phone out to Medusa when he saw her. Frowning, she took it, noting it was Irelle. Sudden fear for Ahura spiked in her heart, but she swallowed it as she greeted the young woman.

Ahura had been attacked and beaten.

Her blood turned to ice as Irelle's words sank in, and the next few minutes passed in a blur. She gathered the twins, while clinging to her husband's hand, and called for Lockjaw, scarcely aware of anything but the need to get to New Attilan and be at Ahura's side as soon as possible. _He was badly hurt, but not dead. He would be fine_. She chanted this to herself, silently, over and over. Dimly, she remembered telling Maeve to go find Agon and stay with him for now. The little girl wasn't with them when they grabbed onto Lockjaw, so Medusa assumed she'd done as she was told, but shock was making it hard for her to think straight. Maeve was a good girl, so she'd do as she was asked, and anyway, she didn't need to see Ahura badly hurt. The twins didn't either, really, but if this was a possible attack on the royal family, no way were Medusa or Black Bolt letting the twins out of their sight. The primary thought in both their minds right now was getting to Ahura as soon as they could. Every time they met each others' eyes, they saw the same guilt mingled with fear. If they hadn't left Ahura to calm down by himself these past few days, if they'd insisted he come home, this might never have happened.

How would they ever forgive themselves?

 


	10. Chapter 10

Black Bolt sat next to his son, gently patting his shoulder. He was afraid to touch Ahura’s bandaged and plastered hands, concerned that he would cause Ahura pain. Vinatos assured them that in his unconscious state, Ahura could not feel pain, but Black Bolt still hesitated. 

Vinatos wanted Ahura to remain asleep until the worst of the pain subsided. He could give Ahura pain medication while awake, but the side-effects were almost as difficult as the pain itself. Ahura would not be able to use either hand without risk of further damage, so to spare Ahura the frustration of being unable to communicate he remained asleep.

Black Bolt and Medusa pleaded with Ahura to walk with someone whenever he travelled around the city for this very reason, but Ahura always told them off. With the number of muggings and murders that happened around New York City, Black Bolt was somewhat surprised Ahura had not been attacked sooner. He and Medusa were always afraid that someone would order Ahura to do something like give up his wallet, and being unable to hear the attacker or understand him, Ahura would be shot without warning. It was a fear that pained them every time he left the Quiet Room on his own.

Once Vinatos finished his assessment, he brought Medusa and Black Bolt over to a display showing the various fractures around Ahura’s arms and hands, as well as a rib that would need screws to correct. Both hands had multiple fractures; his left wrist and his right forearm would need casts for at least two to three weeks if Ahura healed at the typical Inhuman rate. 

“My King, my Queen,” Vinatos began. “Based on my assessment, Prince Ahura’s wounds should heal with minimal long-term damage. The fifth rib on the left will require surgery to ensure the bone heals together properly, which I have scheduled for the morning while we wait for the swelling to reduce.”

Medusa tried to remain stoic as she examined the images of her son’s mangled bones. “How will he talk to us, Blackagar?” 

Black Bolt clenched his jaw, trying to stop a particular thought before it reached his conscious awareness and relayed it to Medusa. _If we continued encouraging speech when he was young, he would still be able to communicate._

Almost like lightning, a lock of Medusa’s hair whipped forward and struck Black Bolt across the face, leaving an angry red welt. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Unsure what to do with himself, Vinatos retreated from view but stood near the door in case he was needed. Medusa’s shock and sadness ignited into anger the moment she mentally heard Black Bolt’s thought. She never tolerated anyone forcing her boy to speak, not when it was akin to torture for him growing up. Ahura spent hours with teachers as a little boy just trying to pronounce basic words, to the point that Ahura fell behind educationally. Once he learned to sign and had a method of communication that worked for him, Medusa never forced him to speak if he didn’t want to. Sometimes Ahura tried pronouncing things, usually as a joke because he knew he was pronouncing it incorrectly, but there were a few words that he asked for help correctly saying. The handful of words were usually people who were important to him. Ahura still mispronounced the names but they were at least recognizable by others. 

Medusa looked at the images one last time then returned to her son. He appeared peaceful as he slept despite the swelling in his face, and she was careful to avoid spots that she assumed were the most painful. She worried if Ahura were cold as he lay shirtless with the thin infirmary blanket pulled up to his waist. Ahura was so thin and lanky growing up, he did not fill out until a few years ago when he grew as if trying to compensate for all the years of abuse and neglect he endured. No matter how old Ahura was, however, whether a newborn infant or an old man, he would always be Medusa’s baby. 

Irelle knocked on the infirmary door, peeking inside a moment later. Her face was still red and puffy from crying, shaken from finding Ahura beaten and non-responsive. “Your highness? The twins wanted to know if they could come in.”

Hesitating, Medusa stood and exited the room to prepare the twins for what they were about to see. They were eager to look inside but Medusa blocked their view. “Listen to me, my loves,” she began, pulling both of them towards her so she had their full attention. “Ahura is badly injured, and he does not look like he normally does. There are many cuts and bruises along his body, as well as bandages and equipment that are monitoring him.”

Daryn fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m scared, mommy,” he whispered. Anora, in an unusual moment of timidity, nodded in agreement. 

“It’s okay to be scared, baby. What happened to Ahura was scary, and the machines and bandages look scary as well. But just remember that even though it all _looks_ scary, the machines and bandages are helping him heal.”

The twins nodded, Daryn still appearing unsure. Medusa was not finished, however.

“You may not touch Ahura’s hands or arms, nor may you touch any of the equipment. If you want to touch him, you can only touch his shoulder. Do you understand?” She stood at her full height once again and took their hands, encouraging them through the door. Anora momentarily hesitated when she first looked upon Ahura’s sleeping figure, then went to Black Bolt at his side. Daryn buried his face in Medusa’s hip.

Black Bolt forced a smile at his youngest children, hugging Anora close as she maneuvered herself onto his lap. “Is Hura asleep, daddy?”

Black Bolt nodded.

“Does it hurt?”

Black Bolt shook his head. “ _Vinatos is helping him sleep so he does not feel any pain._ ”

She looked at Ahura for a long moment, then leaned forward with an outstretched hand. Black Bolt helped place her hand on a spot she could touch, Ahura’s left shoulder above the bandages wrapped around his rib cage. After gently petting his shoulder, Anora withdrew her hand and leaned into Black Bolt’s neck. “Does he know I’m here?”

For a moment, Black Bolt hesitated then nodded. 

They were quiet as Daryn worked up the courage to move closer. He still did not want to let go of Medusa, not until he was close enough that Black Bolt could hug him as well. “Hura looks scary, daddy,” he said, his deep blue eyes wide with fear.

“ _He looks scary now, but he will look better in a few days when he starts to heal._ ”

“Is Hura gonna die? I don’t want him to die,” Daryn sniffled, his bottom lip quivering. Black Bolt immediately shook his head and hugged both twins tight against himself, continuing to shake his head to reassure them.

“ _Ahura will not die, I promise. He will be asleep for a few days, but that is so he can rest and heal faster. Vinatos will not let anything happen to your brother._ ”

The twins stayed in their father’s arms for about five minutes before they somewhat calmed, enough that they could look at Ahura and the equipment surrounding him for more than a few seconds. Daryn had a pensive look on his face.

“Daddy, if I touch Hura’s shoulder with my power, will he know it’s me?”

The thought made Black Bolt pause, as he did not consider using any sort of power. Black Bolt shrugged, then encouraged Daryn to try.

Daryn set his hand on the designated spot and appeared to freeze, telepathically showing Ahura what Daryn wanted him to know. There was no visible response, but Daryn relaxed once he removed his hand.

“What did you show him, baby?” Medusa sat on the opposite side of the bed and looked to her youngest boy. She was still angry with Black Bolt but did not show it in front of their children.

“I showed him a big hug. And La-La,” Daryn added as an afterthought. He believed that La-La’s “power,” unlike the real Lockjaw’s ability to teleport, was the ability to heal people. When the twins were about four and witnessed their first Terrigenesis ceremony, Daryn wanted La-La to go through his own. 

Although Agon was still recovering from his stroke at the time, he was also still a doting grandfather. Agon made a short speech, then opened the terrigen chamber for Daryn to place La-La inside. He pressed the buttons on the console that started the procedure, overriding the alert that no terrigen crystals were in the chamber, and waited for the “ceremony” to complete. Ever since, any illness or injury had a visit from La-La to help the person feel better. Daryn still held the belief that La-La could heal, although as he aged he relied less on La-La.

After the twins visited for a few more minutes, Medusa sent them back out into the hallway with Irelle and Frank McGee. Gorgon put the infirmary on high alert, allowing no one to approach without approval from Vinatos. Unless there was truly a medical emergency, Vinatos denied anyone access and cancelled any appointments he had for the day. As Chief Medical Regent, his sole focus was on the Royal Family.

With the twins occupied once again, Medusa and Black Bolt sat in silence. She still fumed over Black Bolt’s earlier words, angry that he would even think such a thing. 

“ _What more did we do wrong, Medusa?_ ”

She remained silent though curious as to what Black Bolt meant. 

“ _Have I failed him? Would he have been happier if we left him with the Adams?_ ”

“Probably,” Medusa snapped. If she were totally honest with herself, Ahura would like have had a relatively stable childhood had they left him in Pottersville.

Black Bolt maneuvered his chair closer to the bed and bent over Ahura as if he would kiss his son’s forehead. If Daryn’s telepathic abilities worked a few moments ago, it was possible Black Bolt could attempt a mind link with his oldest son.

With Black Bolt’s forehead against Ahura’s, he closed his eyes to concentrate deeply. He’d never attempted a mind link with someone asleep. Ahura’s mind was hazy and erratic, as if Black Bolt were looking into a scrambled radio frequency.

_”Ahura,”_ Black Bolt mentally called into the void representing Ahura’s consciousness. Ahura ‘appeared’ within a few moments, somewhat out of focus.

_”Father? What happened?”_

_”You were attacked. Thank Randac you’re alive,”_ thought Black Bolt. Even unconscious, Ahura’s astral form had a moody aura. _”Your hands are broken; Vinatos is keeping you asleep for now so you don’t have to force yourself to communicate.”_

Ahura nodded, looking at the astral versions of his hands. He’d been in mind links with his father before, but he remembered that he could still feel what was physically happening to his body at the time. At the moment he could barely feel anything.

_”Do you remember who attacked you?”_

_”No, I don’t. Sterilon can probe my memories of it but I can’t make myself recall the person.”_

_”Rest for now, we can figure it out when you wake. Ahura?”_

_”What?”_

Black Bolt shifted in his chair, suddenly feeling awkward. He was not used to such intimate conversations with his son.

_”I’m sorry I upset you. I forget that the values you learned from the humans are different than our own. It is cruel of me to expect that you forget them. You’re becoming your own man, and I must not allow my own faults and perceptions prevent you from doing so.”_

Astral Ahura nodded, trying to hide the minute grin. _”Thank you.”_

_”Did you feel Daryn connect with you?”_

Ahura’s grin widened to the rest of his face. _”I wondered why I was dreaming about their toys.”_

_”They miss you. Anora asks if you’re coming back every day, and we usually find Daryn in your bed in the morning.”_

Ahura shrugged, choosing his words carefully. _”I miss them also, but I need my own space apart from them.”_

_”I’ve been researching different locks, ones Anora isn’t able to open with her telekinesis. Your grandfather is constructing it, when he remembers to work on it.”_ Black Bolt grinned at his slight jab towards his father. Within the last year or so Agon had “moments” where he seemed to lose track of time, going so far as to wander around looking for Inhumans long dead. Typically, seeing his grandchildren brought him back to the present, although with Maeve he had a difficult time since he did not see her every day.

_”If I come back, I would like my own space. Daryn can have my room, I can convert one of the guest rooms like we did with grandfather.”_

Black Bolt nodded and swallowed hard, forcing himself not to rebuke his son for making demands of his father. It was a mature compromise: Ahura would have his own space but he would not be so far away that Medusa or Black Bolt would have difficulty getting to him. _”I’ll see what I can do. Such changes will take time.”_

_”I can be patient.”_

_”You’re a Boltagon,”_ Black Bolt snickered. _”We aren’t known for being patient.”_

Ahura laughed, the first time in days. He could feel the mind link becoming strained as they both struggled to keep Ahura’s astral form awake, fighting with his physical body to continue sleeping. _”I think I’d like to rest now. Tell mom I love her? And the monsters.”_

_”Of course. We will be here when you wake.”_

It was the closest Ahura would get to a declaration of love from Black Bolt. Ahura nodded and allowed his astral form to blink into non-existence, signifying that he was fully asleep once again. Black Bolt left his forehead against Ahura’s for a few more minutes, just happy to feel his son’s head against his own and knowing that he was safe.

“ _He will be fine. He said he loves you,_ ” Black Bolt telepathically told Medusa as he sat up fully. She reached across the bed and parted some of Ahura’s bangs so they were out of his face. It was something of an old habit she did ever since he was small and did the same for her other children as well.

“I need to check on Maeve, and make sure she found your father. He needs to know who will be picking her up.”

Medusa rose once again and retreated to the imaging room will the scans of Ahura’s mangled hands. She dialed Verna’s number first. “Verna? It’s Medusa. Yes, Maeve is alright, it’s Ahura. He was attacked on his way to pick her up.” On the other end, Verna momentarily panicked. “He’s alive, we have him in New Attilan at the infirmary. Maeve is with Agon at the Quiet Room, I’m sure he’s relishing the individual time he’s having with her.” On the other end, Verna sounded as if she were packing things, walking quickly and telling a third person (Medusa assumed Verna’s mother) that they had to go. 

“I’ll call Norm and have him pick up Maeve, then meet you at the infirmary,” Verna said, almost as if her sentence were one long word. “Will the guards let us across the bridge?”

“I can meet you at the bridge so there will be no trouble. Ahura is asleep and will remain so for a few days; whoever attacked him broke both of his hands.”

Verna audibly gasped. “Oh my God, that’s monstrous.” 

“Vinatos is taking good care of him, there is nothing that we need to do. I just wanted to let you know where Maeve is; I’ll call Agon and let him know that Norm will pick her up.”

“Thank you, I’ll pray for Ahura,” Verna added at the last moment. Medusa hung up the phone and steadied herself once again to call Agon. Telling others that Ahura would be fine did very little to reassure herself, but she had to remain steadfast for her youngest children.

She dialed the Quiet Room and asked for Agon as he refused to carry a cellphone or communication device of any kind (claiming he was too old to do so). Flagman handed the phone off, giving Medusa a chance to hear Maeve chattering about something in the background.

“Agon? It’s Medusa. Did Maeve find you?”

Agon grunted into the phone. “Yes, she found me. We are in the lesson room.”

“It sounds like you two are having fun.”

“Oh, yes,” Agon agreed. “We are practicing her written Tilan and writing nonsense all over the board.”

“Good, good. Norm will pick her up in a few hours, can you feed her?”

Agon scoffed into the phone. “Of course I can feed her, Medusalith. We will have something traditionally Tilan.”

“Well, have fun, then. We will be home this evening.”

Medusa hung up the phone and went back into Ahura’s observation room with Maeve now far from her mind.


	11. Chapter 11

Maeve hummed happily to herself as she skipped along the hallway to the twins' room. There had been a change of plans, so instead of Ahura coming to take her home, she was staying at the Quiet Room with Agon until her mom and dad came and got her. She figured it was because Ahura was off somewhere being icky with Irelle, kissing, and wrinkled her nose. Yucky! She didn't want to see that anyway! Agon was clearing up after dinner in the kitchen, and she'd come up here to find something to play with until her parents arrived.

Deciding on Anora's drawing set, with its huge collection of crayons, (Anora had _said_ , once, that Maeve could share it, after all, so it wasn't like she was taking it without asking) she hugged the set to her chest and made her way back to the kitchen. She could hear Agon talking, and hesitated. Were Mommy and Daddy here already? Listening hard, she frowned. No- Agon was talking in Tilan, which Maeve didn't understand very well yet. She paused in the kitchen doorway. Agon was pacing back and forth, looking kind of pale, glancing round like he was looking for something, not taking any notice of her at all, talking fast, like he was mad about something.

Maeve's tummy twisted. Had she done something wrong? She didn't _think_  she had.... should she say sorry? But Agon still hadn't looked at her. It was like he didn't know she was even there. She bit her lip, clutching the drawing pad and crayons closer to her, backing up when Agon's voice rose to a shout, still in Tilanese. Maybe she should go downstairs and get a grown-up? She nodded to herself. That's what Mommy and Daddy had taught her to do if something was wrong with someone. She turned and quickly darted down the stairs, figuring she'd go and get Flagman- he'd know what to do, right?

 

* * *

 

Maximus growled with frustration- he'd been concealed in this conference room at his brother's absurd bar, blurring the minds of any who saw him, for the past three hours, and still there was no sign of anyone from the family who could help him get to Ona! Grimacing, he weighed his options- stay here all night, just hoping for a family member to show up, since that was likely the best way to get Ona to trust him- take mental control of whoever he found first, be that Agon, Medusa, one of her young twins or Ahura, (he'd be back soon to recuperate in his own home, surely?) then make them find Ona and tell her it was alright for her to leave with him. He knew there was little chance she'd leave with him, a near stranger, otherwise, and he _had_  to get her away from this place so he could explain things properly, about how she'd been stolen as an infant, and now he would take her back and make a home for them, far from here.

He ground his teeth as more time passed. How long was he expected to wait?! He'd already lost six years with his little girl! Throwing his hands up, he stalked to the door, easing it open silently. Seeing no-one in the hall, he slipped out, focusing his powers to ensure no-one saw him there. He'd just go up to his brother's apartment. _Someone_  had to be there. He froze as Flagman, the brightly colored fool, all but ran past him to settle a disturbance in the bar. Maximus suppressed a grin as Flagman's eyes went straight through him- at least his powers were working fully. He continued towards the stairs that led to the family apartment, now less concerned about being stealthy, as he knew he wouldn't be seen.

He'd just reached the foot of the stairs when, to his utter amazement, the upper door opened and Ona appeared, navigating the stairs slowly, clutching a drawing pad, her little brow furrowed as if she were worried about something. Maximus was so startled his jaw dropped, and he unwittingly let go of his powers, revealing himself.

Ona froze, her eyes widening owlishly, just like Mara's always had when something startled her. The thought of his lost lover made Maximus' eyes burn. He blinked back tears and focused on Ona, giving her a friendly smile, ignoring his pounding heart. "Hello."

She took one step closer, looking puzzled. "Hi..." Her brown eyes lit up with recognition. "I saw you at the train station! How come you're here?"

Maximus' smile widened. "I came to see you, of course. How are you?"

Her face darkened. "I'm OK. But Grandpa- Agon- the man who's looking after me right now- he's ill. He's talking to himself. I was going to get help." She scrutinised him. "Can you help?"

Maximus' heart rate doubled. If Ona was alone with Agon, and he was having some kind of break from reality, then his reclaiming Ona might be far easier than he'd expected, and there'd be no reason for anyone to suspect him- nobody knew he was here! He managed a serious-looking nod and offered Ona his hand. "Why don't you come along with me, and we'll get things sorted out?" Easier to keep her docile for now- there would be time to explain the truth, her true name and who he was to her, once he'd gotten her away from here.

Looking extremely relieved, Ona's face broke into a big smile- transforming her momentarily into the image of Maximus' late mother Rynda- and she darted down the stairs, taking his hand without hesitation. "Are we gonna go get Flagman to help Agon?"

"Of course." Maximus replied absently, leading her through the halls, already mentally plotting the fastest way out of the bar without encountering too many people. "This way, Ona."

She froze, tugging her hand from his and staring up at him. "What? I'm not Ona, my name's Maeve..."

Maximus' blood boiled. So, his daughter had even been deprived of her _name_! He forced himself to stay calm- it was not her fault, after all, and she'd understand once he'd explained. But that couldn't happen here and now. They had to be gone before anyone missed her. He quickly knelt in front of her. "Sorry, I got a little confused." He placed a hand on her shoulder, staring deeply into her eyes, focusing. "Go to sleep."

She dropped like a stone, eyes closing instantly, drawing pad and crayons dropping to the floor. Maximus lifted Ona's sleeping form into his arms, exulting silently at holding his precious daughter at last, and snatched up the drawing supplies too, not wanting any evidence of their presence to remain. Besides, it would give Ona something to do once he'd 'acquired' an apartment, before he could get more things for her. Resuming his concentration, he made sure no-one would register their presence as he left the bar, out into the street, and kept walking. Here, the humans would only see a man carrying his sleeping child home, but to be safe, he kept them from noticing. The fewer witnesses, the better.

Maximus felt a twinge of guilt about Agon- if his father truly was having some sort of episode, he _did_  need help... He paused and reached out with his mind, 'looking' for Flagman, still in the main bar, and 'suggested' he check on Agon. The major domo of the Quiet Room would have no idea where the impulse came from, but he would obey it. (Maximus had also made him forget that Ona was supposed to be with Agon, so no alarms would be raised yet.)

His conscience sated, Maximus made his way further into the city, cradling his sleeping daughter, as he thought about how far he should go before 'convincing' someone to give them an empty apartment. Remaining in New York would be easiest, but it would also make them far simpler to find. It would be best if they left New York altogether, and had a fresh start somewhere new.

Mind made up, Maximus kept Ona asleep, loving how peaceful she looked, as he headed for the bus station, and got them aboard a bus headed for Albany. They might remain there, or travel further, maybe even as far as Canada, he hadn't decided yet. There was plenty of time to think about their future now he had his daughter back, after all.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Norm had just finished his final service of the day when he finally checked his cellphone. Typically he left it in his office whenever he was preaching, though today he kept it in his pocket since neither himself nor his wife were picking up their daughter and he wanted to keep it on hand in case of emergency. 

He gave a sermon on providing shelter and aid for neighbors, particularly displaced people. Plenty of scripture talked of providing aid to the sojourner as if they were native-born. After Norm overheard some church members complaining about immigrants, Norm wanted to remind them of the doctrine they supposedly followed.

He unlocked the phone and turned the ringer back on as the alert popped up that he had dozens of new messages and calls, all spaced within a few minutes of one another. Verna called and texted, as well as Medusa, all saying to call immediately and come to New Attilan. He called Verna first, seated at his desk and rapping his fingers across an apologetics book he was slogging through. Verna answered with frustration in her voice, exasperated that Norm would have his phone on silent.

“Someone attacked Pope, he’s in the infirmary in New Attilan,” Verna huffed, the sound of the twins chattering in the background. Norm’s heart rate instantly skyrocketed, fear that someone hurt his daughter causing him to panic.

“Where’s Maeve? Is she alright?”

“She’s with Agon, still at the Quiet Room. Pope was on his way to get her. Both of his hands are broken, Norm, it’s terrible.”

The simultaneous rush of relief and abject horror made Norm dizzy. Why would anyone hurt “his” boy? Ahura had something of a temper, he could’ve gotten into a fight after reacting poorly to someone else, but to cut off Ahura’s communication in such a way was disturbing. 

He grabbed his clerical coat from the rack and bolted for the door, stopping at the secretary’s office to tell her there was an emergency at home. She said she would say a prayer for them as Norm rushed out the main door.

The pastoral staff knew the Adams had a foster son that they kept up with, and that Maeve was adopted as an infant. Norm was the most recent to join the staff after they moved from Pottersville in upstate New York to New York City, claiming they wanted to be closer to their foster son’s family and the relatives of Maeve’s family. Norm and Verna kept many details of Maeve’s birth either vague or omitted entirely, such as her Inhuman genetics and how she ended up in their care. The staff knew that Maeve’s birth mother was deceased and her birth father too mentally ill to care for her. Why she grew so quickly and ran circles around adults who memorized scripture for years were some of the details the Adams kept to themselves. 

He arrived at the New Attilan bridge to find Medusa waiting for him, the visage of controlled royalty in her demeanor and purple dress. It was a simple outfit, but she had a commanding presence. “How is he? Verna told me he was in bad shape.”

“Ahura will heal,” Medusa said, a sadness to her voice. “He will require surgery in the morning but it is minor, Vinatos will keep him asleep for now.”

“How are you and Black Bolt?”

Medusa smiled at him through thin lips, pain clouding her eyes. “We are worried for our son, yes. This is the most Blackagar has sat with him in years; he feels unequipped, even though Ahura is asleep.”

“I’d imagine it’s hard to be a king and raise a family,” Norm mused as they kept a brisk pace across the bridge. Guards stood at attention and shooed away Inhumans who wished to find out what their queen was doing with a human. “Everyone expects him to be so stoic all the time.”

“Oh, yes, he’s had that expectation placed on him since childhood. Infancy, even. Showing such emotions is difficult for him.”

“Pope—Ahura, I mean—is very much like him. Not as much control over his emotions, though.” Norm gently smirked at her, following Medusa into an elevator. She announced the name of the infirmary and Norm barely felt the familiar gravitational pull as they descended.

Medusa was quiet for a moment, looking at her hands as if deep in thought. 

“I often regret taking him back from you,” she whispered.

Norm was not sure he heard her correctly, stuttering as he tried to process it. “Ex-excuse me?” 

“You gave him a language and stability. Things that we deprived him of for so long. We failed him.”

Before Norm could respond or make any kind of rebuttal, the door slid open. Verna paced the hallway, hugging herself while the twins kept themselves busy behind her. She wrapped her arms around Norm’s neck and let him hold her close for a moment. “Hey, are you okay? I got here as quickly as I could.”

Verna nodded against his shoulder. “It’s just hard seeing him so beat up. What if Maeve had been with him?”

“Shh, hush with that kind of talk,” He soothed. “She’s safe with Agon, remember? And I’ll bet he’s spoiling her rotten for us.”

Verna snorted and let go of her husband, turning back to the twins. They were working on a complicated diagram of sorts that was cut into pieces like a digital puzzle, something to keep them occupied for now while the adults coordinated. Not only could they construct the surface but also the inner guts of whatever it is the diagram depicted. Anora sat with her legs tucked underneath her while Daryn stretched across the floor, holding his head with his hands and idly swinging his feet or clacking his shoes together.

Very little of the infirmary changed since they spent the first few week’s of Maeve’s life in it. Though some Inhumans were suspicious of humans staying in New Attilan for an extended period of time, they were all civil to Norm and Verna, going so far as to bring meals or stopping to chat and ask if they needed anything. Some of the women reminded Verna of the biddies at church in the way they fawned over Maeve, others were simply amazed at her tiny frame. Premature infants were extremely rare among Inhumans, so a baby weighing only three pounds fascinated them. 

Ahura was not in the same unit, so while the atmosphere felt familiar to Norm, the appearance did not. He recognized Vinatos and almost wished he’d picked up Maeve prior to coming to New Attilan so Vinatos could see how much she’d grown. Vinatos kept up with Maeve’s development from a distance, as Norm or Verna sent him every physical their daughter needed, so he knew basic details. 

“Doctor Vinatos,” Norm quietly called down the hall to him. “How are ya, my friend?”

“Ah, Mr. Adams, it’s good to see you once again. How is the little one?” Vinatos clasped his hands behind his back and flashed his lengthy canine tooth. He trusted few humans, only the ones approved by the royal family.

“Not so little anymore, she’s growing like a weed. Take a look.” Norm tugged his phone out of his coat once again and opened the photos app. A few were of Maeve and Verna taking “selfies,” others of Maeve by herself and the odd one of Ahura. He wanted to find one of Maeve next to other children to show the difference in their heights; since Inhuman children grew slightly faster than human children, Maeve was already a bit taller than most of the kids in her grade and church group. “She’s a blessing.”

Vinatos smiled, but it was a complicated smile. He was happy to see Maeve healthy and growing well, but as her features began to resemble Maximus he felt unsure. Did the Adams know the signs of madness to look for in their daughter? Based on the pictures there was nothing obvious, but Maximus looked relatively sane until adolescence. 

“Any illnesses of note?”

Norm shook his head. “You know, once we brought her home I don’t think she’s _ever_ been sick. Do you remember any time when Maeve was sick, honey?”

“No, not that I can recall. She always seemed to fight whatever bug was going around, even when one of us caught something.”

Vinatos smiled once again. “She is Inhuman, her immune system can handle most human maladies. If she ever seems ill, please bring her to me. Our research into the offspring of an Inhuman and Nuhuman has advanced somewhat since her birth, but I would like to take all precautions regardless.”

“Of course, thank you. The only hiccups we’ve had with her are common kid stuff: scraped knees, sharing toys, eating her veggies, that sort of thing.”

“I fear that is universal,” Vinatos laughed, happy for the lightheartedness despite the tragedy in the next room.

Daryn hauled himself upright and walked over to the adults, leaving Anora to finish the puzzle on her own. “Hi, Uncle Norm! Did you bring Maeve? She can play with us if she wants.”

“I didn’t, bud, I’m sorry. I came straight from work so I didn’t get the chance to stop and get her. She’s still with grandpa at the Quiet Room.”

“Did you come to see Hura? Daddy is sitting in there with him so he won’t die.”

Medusa hushed Daryn before he induced panic by covering his mouth with a lock of her hair. “Ahura is in no danger of dying, Daryn Boltagon. Daddy is only spending time with Ahura before his surgery tomorrow morning.”

Daryn shrugged and tossed back his head to get his own hair out of his face. “ _I_ think he’s okay because I showed him La-La. He can fix anybody.”

Norm nodded once again. “Yup, that sounds about right. La-La has been with you through everything, hasn’t he, bud?” In his own mind, Norm wanted to say that the Lord protected Ahura, but the Adams were always careful not to impose their beliefs on the Boltagons. He’d answer questions if asked, and Norm never shied away from wearing his clerical collar around them, but he generally kept quiet about religious matters. Anora once asked about Jesus, and after Norm told her a few stories from the Gospels she remarked that Jesus sounded like an Inhuman. It was an amusing thought to consider that many important Biblical figures could’ve just been Inhumans or Mutants. If anything it would explain some of the events that took place.

After visiting with the twins for a few minutes, Norm went inside Ahura’s designated room. Black Bolt immediately stood and held his hand out to shake Norm’s, a human behavior that he learned after meeting with so many in the early days of the bar. “You doing alright, Black Bolt?”

Black Bolt nodded and pat Ahura’s shoulder, hiding the sadness he felt for his son. The past few hours were the longest he sat with Ahura in quite a while, and Black Bolt spent much of the time looking for his little boy in Ahura’s grown-up face. 

“He looks rough, doesn’t he?” Norm said, sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed. “I’m thankful he _looks_ worse than the actual damage.”

Black Bolt nodded, his hands clasped together on his lap. “ _We’ve warned him something like this could happen. He’s so stubborn,_ ” Black Bolt eventually signed. Ahura’s language was a connection they had in common, making the Adams the only humans that could “talk” to the king without aid from Medusa. 

“Does he get that from you, or Medusa?”

“ _Both of us, our stubbornness was made exponential when he was born._ ”

“You know, I’ve always wondered what he was like before God brought him to us. He wasn’t able to tell us much about his life beforehand.”

Black Bolt considered going up to the archives and finding the Historikon so Norm could see moments of Ahura’s life. He didn’t move, however. Ahura’s infancy was something Black Bolt cherished. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he had so few memories of Ahura being happy. As a baby Ahura was quiet but pensive, saving his gummy smiles for something that truly amused him. He wanted to grab and inspect everything within reach, including faces and dangerous objects. And like most toddlers, Ahura would gleefully forego any clothing as soon as Medusa turned her back to him and he took off down the hall as fast as his chubby legs could waddle. He never got more than a foot from the door, but it became a game that made him laugh whenever Medusa wrapped him up in her hair and swung him back to the changing table. Those were memories that belonged to Black Bolt and Medusa, no one else.

“ _He was like any other child, I suppose. Until he lost his hearing he grew as most other Inhuman children. Much too fast._ ”

Norm nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Maeve is doing the same thing, the little rat. That child is outgrowing shoes on a monthly basis, it seems.”

“ _She’s starting to look like Maximus._ ”

“Do you miss him?”

Black Bolt looked directly into Norm’s eyes, somewhat covered by his thick glasses. It was a question he never considered before. _”I miss what Maximus could’ve been.”_

They allowed the moment to linger for a bit before Norm squeezed Ahura’s hand and closed his eyes to pray for a swift recovery. Ahura was safe in the infirmary, and there was nothing Norm or Verna could do besides pray for him and his family, so he did not stay long. With his prayer finished, Norm returned to the lobby and motioned for Verna that it was time to go. They were getting close to Maeve’s bedtime, and if they kept her out too long the little girl would grow cranky. 

The twins’ bedtime approached as well. Medusa nearly stood as Norm approached but Norm asked that she remain seated. Each twin laid their head on one half of Medusa’s lap, with Daryn’s eyes already closed and Anora’s getting heavy. The little girl was reading over something on the data pad, a picture book if Norm had to guess, and every few seconds she caught herself dozing. 

“We’ll call you tomorrow afternoon and check on him,” Verna whispered, donning her light jacket. “Tell him we love him for us.”

“Of course. Please, allow Frank McGee to travel with you. Just in case.” 

Norm always found it funny that Medusa called Frank by his full name, as if his first and last name were just one single name. He nodded and followed a guard outside to find Frank still comforting Irelle, although she was considerably calmed compared to when Verna first arrived.

“You folks ready to go?”

“If you are. We have to pick up our daughter at the Quiet Room first, however.”

Frank took off his glasses for a moment to brush away some dust, revealing his yellow glowing eyes. “That’s fine, wherever you need to go, I’ll follow. Don’t think I’ve ever met the squirt, not that I think about it.”

He led the Adams out of the infirmary and through the maze-like streets of New Attilan. As they walked, Frank found that they had much in common: he was also an adoptive father of girl’s after never having children of his own, and his old precinct was in the same area as the Adams’ apartment. 

The Adams spent much of the walk asking him questions about what they might expect as Maeve aged, though Frank has to admit he did not know much about Inhuman children. Irelle and Treste were 16 when he adopted them, so his knowledge prior to that was limited. Now in their 20’s, he felt like he had more understanding as to how to raise an Inhuman adolescent, though at times he had to remind himself not to hold the girls against human standards. Most human young adults would be living apart from their parents at the girls’ age, many with children of their own. 

When they reached the Quiet Room, a bouncer led them through the side entrance to avoid the crowd at the front. Evenings were always busy, and tonight was no exception. They followed the bouncer through the back kitchen and into a hallway that led to the conference rooms, a section usually closed during the evenings. Once deposited in the hallway, the bouncer spoke into a communicator similar to a walkie and then gestures up the steps towards Agon’s set of rooms. “Flagman is up there with King Agon; he said he can’t come down but you can go up there.”

The trio trudged up the steps single-file and knocked on Agon’s door. Flagman opened the door for them but did not pull it open all the way. Behind him Agon paced about the room, speaking solely in Tilan and obviously frustrated with something. Frank could understand most of what Agon jabbered about, though he did not recognize the names Agon mentioned. It sounded like Agon wanted to speak with members of the Genetic Council about his “infant” Blackagar and what they should do to keep Attilan safe from his son’s destructive voice. 

Flagman kept his voice lowered, glancing over his shoulder every few moments. “Evening, everyone. What can I do for you? I’m a little indisposed at the moment but I can call someone back up here.”

“We’ve come to pick up Maeve, it’s getting past her bedtime,” Verna whispered. She did not see Maeve in Agon’s apartment, but she figured Flagman was keeping the little girl out of Agon’s way for now. Flagman scrunched his eyebrows together, then shrugged.

“I thought Little Bit went with the Royal Family to check on Ahura. She hasn’t been here all afternoon.”


	13. Chapter 13

_“I thought Little Bit went with the Royal Family to check on Ahura. She hasn’t been here all afternoon.”_

Verna's head spun as she stared at Flagman, his words echoing in her mind, not sinking in. She clutched at Norm's hand to steady herself, her heart pounding.

Norm's face was white as he challenged the Inhuman. "What do you mean, Maeve hasn't been here all afternoon? She was left with Agon when Medusa and Black Bolt went to New Attilan to see Ahura!"

Flagman blinked, looking baffled. "I don't remember that...."

Frank McGee stepped forward. "Ok, let's all take a breath here. Norm, Verna, you're sure that Maeve was here when the Royals left?"

"Yes." Norm raked a hand through his hair. "Are you suggesting we don't know what we're talking about where our daughter is concerned-"

Frank raised a hand to cut him off, turning to Flagman. "And you, you think she went with the Royals to New Attilan?"

"Yes...." Flagman wavered, no longer sounding certain.

Frank folded his arms. "Can you tell me, in detail, what happened when they all left?"

Flagman frowned. "Not exactly, I was down in the bar at the time. I know the king got a call from Irelle, about the attack on Ahura, he went to find the queen, then I got a text saying they were all in New Attilan. I assumed that meant Little Bit as well."

Verna shook her head. _This can't be happening_. "When Medusa called to tell me what happened to Pope- er, Ahura, she said that she left Maeve with Agon."

Flagman now looked distinctly worried. "When I came to check on Agon an hour ago, he was having an episode, forgetting where he was, but Little Bit wasn't here-" He stopped talking abruptly, eyes widening. "Though there was a child's writing on the blackboard in the schoolroom...."

"But you don't remember actually seeing Maeve?" Frank clarified, his 'detective face' on, expression stern.

"No."

"Then why'd you go check on Agon? If you were running the bar, why randomly go upstairs?"

"I...." Flagman spread his hands. "I don't actually remember..."

"What does it matter?" Verna burst out. "Where's our little girl?" She stifled a sob. _Maeve, baby, where are you?_

Norm slid his arm round her, though he was shaking himself. "Is there any point asking Agon anything right now?" He fought to keep his voice steady.

"No, in his condition, he won't be able to tell us anything useful, I'm afraid. He doesn't even know where he is." Flagman paced back and forth, wringing his hands.

Frank squared his shoulders, taking charge of the situation. "Right. Flagman, can you have someone search this place? Best case scenario, Agon's flashback scared the kid and she's hiding somewhere."

Flagman nodded, pulling his phone out, calling one of the other staff, speaking rapidly in Tilan. Frank turned to Norm and Verna, both of whom were pale with fright. "Are either of you up to calling Medusa, to see if she can shed any light on this? If not, I can do it. I just want to be sure nothing was miscommunicated. You all were under a lot of stress today."

Verna, hands trembling, but needing to _do_  something, pulled her phone out and dialed Medusa's number. "Medusa? It's Verna." Her voice wobbled. "No, actually, it's not alright. I.... Maeve...." She broke down crying, unable to actually force herself to say the words. _Maeve's missing_.

Frank gently took the cell from her. "Medusa. It's Frank. Not sure, but something's not right. Is it true you left Maeve with Agon earlier?"

He nodded a couple of times. "Of course not. It's just that she doesn't appear to be here now, and Flagman seemed to think she might be with you- alright, you definitely left her with Agon." He shook his head. "Not sure what's going on right now, but we'll find her." His face darkened at something Medusa said. "It could be, but let's not jump to conclusions yet. No, best you stay where you are for now. I'll let you know if we find anything out." He hung up and returned the phone to Verna, putting a hand on her shoulder, trying to think of something to say.

Flagman caught his eye and he stepped away from the Adams', gesturing for the colorful Inhuman to follow. "Anything?"

Flagman shook his head, speaking in a low tone. "One of my telepaths scanned the building. Little Bit's definitely not here."

Frank grimaced. "Alright, so we need to figure out what might've happened. Do you think she's the sort of kid to wander off on her own, or..."

"No, she isn't!" Norm burst into the conversation. "She's a sensible girl, she knows better than to go off on her own."

"She's only six, and I'm only trying to suss this out." Frank replied in a concilatory tone. He took a deep breath, voicing a darker thought. "Maeve was meant to have been with Ahura earlier, when he was assaulted, if I understand correctly?"

"Yes- no, he was on his way to collect her when-" Norm shook his head, pushing the thought away. "Why would that have anything to do with..."

Frank held his gaze steadily. "It's possible that the attack on Ahura might have been a way to get access to Maeve, or learn where she was." He knew the little girl's true parentage, of course, and he hated having to say this to her adopted parents, but all his instincts from years in the force were pointing him this way. "If... anyone," S _uch as Maximus_ , "Wanted to steal Maeve, using Ahura to learn her location, then leaving him hurt to keep everyone busy, distracted..." He didn't finish the sentence, not needing to. This was all theory, but it made sense, especially when Flagman's memory gap was factored in.

Flagman, whose dark expression showed he had had similar thoughts to Frank's own, had his cell phone in hand again. "I'm alerting the king and queen. If this.... situation... is what, _who_ , you think, they need to know."

Frank nodded, turning back to Norm and Verna, both of whom were dazed, in shock. He wasn't sure how much of that they had followed. He took a deep breath. "Black Bolt and Medusa are being caught up on things now. A proper search will be underway soon, now we know that Maeve isn't on this property. I need to know if you want the human police involved. There may be some bias, given how closely Inhumans are tied to this."

"Well, of course we need to call the police!" Verna snapped. "But, I don't understand, why would our involvement with Inhumans have anything to do with our little girl disappearing?" Her gaze was glassy, her mind clearly not comprehending everything that had been said, or surmised.

Norm's face was bleak as he stared at Frank. "Because you think Maximus took Maeve." His tone was flat, impossible to interpret. Verna clapped her hands to her mouth, dissolving into sobs.

Frank looked away from both of them, not sure which reaction was worse. Maximus (if it was him, but who else could it really have been?) could have taken that little girl anywhere by now, it had been hours since she was seen.... Frank wasn't normally a praying man, but he closed his eyes. _Please, God, let that little girl be alright, and bring her home safely._

 


	14. Chapter 14

As the bus careened down the freeway, Maximus found himself ignoring everything outside the window in favor of watching his daughter sleep with her head on his shoulder. For the first time in years he felt a calm that he hadn’t felt since Mara was alive.

A pair of older human women fawned over Ona as she slept, saying she looked just like him. Maximus was so proud of her; was this how his family members felt whenever they bragged about their children? Though when he thought about it, his family members did not have much to brag about. Black Bolt deafened his oldest son and had twins without approval of the council, while Gorgon practically abandoned his own children. When was the last time any of them had even _seen_ Alecto or Petras? Alecto would be a young woman by now, and Petras well into adolescence. Gorgon never mentioned either of them. Even Petras’ _name_ shows how little Gorgon cared for his son: the English equivalent to Petras is merely “boy.”

Maximus would prove to all of them that he could be a competent and capable father. He loved Ona, and would do whatever he needed to do to ensure she was happy, healthy, and successful. It was more than Agon could say about his own sons.

The mental stamina he needed to keep Ona asleep until they reached their destination was starting to tire Maximus. She was perfectly fine, but he’d never kept someone asleep for so long. The goal was to keep her asleep until they found a hotel to hide in for a few days in Albany, then cross the national border into Canada so the American authorities could not follow. If they took the bus straight through the trip would take over ten hours non-stop, and the tickets Maximus pilfered were for the whole trip, but they would stop about two-thirds of the way to rest for a few nights. He also just wanted to be with his daughter for a few days without worrying about the business of travel.

“How old is she,” one of the old women asked him. Maximus was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear her.

“Hmm? Oh, she’s six years old,” he said, shifting his daughter’s weight a bit so there was less pressure on the medical bracelet Agon enslaved him with.

The old woman pat Ona’s knee, to which Maximus had to force himself not to snap at her. He did not want anyone to touch his daughter. “She’s absolutely precious,” the woman whispered to Maximus.

“Yes, she is.”

“Where’s her mother?”

Maximus swallowed hard. “She died moments after our daughter was born.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said the old woman, her hand covering her mouth in shock. “Bless you, sweetheart. Raising a child as a single father must be difficult.”

Maximus shrugged, struggling to think of words to express how he truly felt. The love he had for his little girl was overwhelming. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”

“What’s her name?”

“Ona.”

“Ona,” the old woman repeated, trying to mentally place the name’s origin. “I’ve never heard that name before, what does it mean?”

Since Ona was merely the feminine form on Agon, Maximus gave her the meaning of his father’s name although it did not have a direct translation from Tilan. “Where I am from, it means _exalted._ ”

The woman nodded and pat Ona’s knee once again. “She sleeps like a stone.”

“It’s been an exhausting day, we’re moving.” Maybe it was a product of the ‘madness’ everyone believed he had, but suddenly Maximus wanted to tell the woman his entire story. He wanted to be proud of himself and his daughter, and show others that he could take care of her. “We are starting a new life together.”

“Well I hope you are able to settle in smoothly. We’ll pray for you and little Ona.”

Maximus never understood prayer, not as humans did, at any rate. From what he could gather from Ahura’s thoughts, the humans that stole Ona were very religious and prayed often. How much nonsense did they cram into Ona’s head? What damage did Maximus need to undo? He highly doubt she knew much of anything about her Inhuman heritage, that would be a good place to start. She would know that she is descended from royalty and the elite of Attilan, Maximus would see to it.

When the bus pulled into a station for a short break, Maximus collected Ona and her drawing set to depart from the bus. They would not continue on this specific bus, but after a day or two of rest they would pick up the same route. For now they needed a hotel so Ona could sleep properly in an actual bed.

There were a few hotels in the blocks surrounding the bus stop, so Maximus chose one that he recognized from New York. It was certainly not extravagant but not dismal either. The human working the front desk wore a dark uniform with the hotel’s logo branded on the chest, so there was a corporation behind the hotel. If anyone were to look for them it’d be less likely they check mid-range hotels; most people probably expected Maximus to choose the fanciest location he could find.

Before the desk worker could even finish her sentence, Maximus latched onto her mind to force her through the motions of checking them in. He made her enter the name “Dan Johnson,” something of an odd tribute to his life with Mara in Minnesota. With key in hand, Maximus head to the corner room on the second level and swiped the plastic key card to unlock the door.

The room was a simple layout with two beds and an attached bathroom. Maximus rarely watched television but if Ona wanted to do so, he wouldn’t deny her. After living with humans for so long there would be habits and customs that would be difficult to break. Until they were settled in Canada, Maximus would avoid trying to pry the human customs from his daughter. Keeping her happy would make the trip far easier.

Maximus pulled back the sheets on one of the beds and lay Ona in the empty space, tugging the little girl’s small purple and pink shoes from her feet. When she was tucked in with the sheets pulled up to her shoulders, he relaxed his powers to allow Ona to wake on her own time.

It frustrated him that he could not remember why he left her in the first place. Probably something Black Bolt did, or maybe Sterilon swiped his memory of the event. Maximus could remember looking at her in the incubator, watching her breathe for hours on end, then there were gaps. He remembered Mara, surrounded by blood, and Ona being cut from her mother’s womb. Vinatos used a bulb to suction Ona’s mouth and nose, causing the tiny baby to squeal from discomfort. She had the tiniest cry, nothing more than a whimper even though her little face was contorted as if she were screaming.

Maximus never even saw her eyes when she was born. Immediately the healers began inserting oxygen and feeding tubes, then they covered her eyes with bandages so they could continue developing. Could Ona hear him talking to her while Maximus sat next to the incubator for so many hours? Did she recognize him during the brief moments that he could touch her? Obviously Maximus could not touch her while Ona was in utero, but he hoped that the vibrations felt the same to her.

Watching her sleep now, peacefully, without the stress of ensuring her survival, Maximus could finally study his daughter. The deep blonde hair she received from her grandmother, with Mara’s small round ears and tall forehead that was a staple of the Boltagon line.

Most likely she would be upset when she woke. Maximus tried to mentally prepare himself for the things she might say, such as claiming he was not her father or she wanted to go home. He recognized that whatever Ona said would come from fear rather than spite, and until she was used to him and Maximus could break the hold the humans had over her, he would be patient.

 

* * *

 

Ahura’s surgery went well, and Vinatos was able to surgically screw the broken rib together without difficulty. The implant would likely remain in Ahura’s rib for the rest of his life; unless there were unusual pain or the metal was pinching something, there was no medical reason to remove the piece holding the rib together. It was small, about three inches in length, so the implant should not be intrusive.

During the surgery Vinatos was also able to properly cast Ahura’s arms. His left arm was cast only up to the elbow, but the right went up to his shoulder. Ahura would still be able to wiggle his fingers and move his left arm somewhat, so that was an improvement over the initial fear that both arms would be fully cast.

As the anesthesia waned and Ahura woke, he moaned and groaned without conscious awareness. Vinatos still pumped Ahura full of painkillers and drugs to help him rest and relax, which made the young man loopy and uncoordinated. Ahura barely recognized anyone that came near him and eyeballed most people with suspicion, save for Medusa whose hair was visually loud enough to help him remember. Ahura would be fine in a few hours, most likely after he fell asleep once again and slept off the remainder of the anesthesia.

Verna spent much of her time with Ahura, as if taking care of him allowed her to utilize the nervous energy she had for Maeve. They met with the human police, then with the Royal Guard, to describe what happened and show them pictures of Maeve. The police would not do anything until the next day, after she’d been gone for 24 hours, but the Royal Guard went to work immediately. Black Bolt ordered them to search without ceasing as penance for their inability to keep Maximus contained.

Norm sat with his head bowed in prayer for hours, sometimes covering his face with his hands or pacing the hallway. Verna’s mother was at their apartment in case Maeve turned up, otherwise they waited for her in the infirmary. For Medusa, it brought back horrible memories of the three days in which Maximus had Daryn.

“You’re keeping together far better than I did when Maximus had my son,” Medusa said to Verna as they both rearranged pillows around Ahura’s torso she he could somewhat sit up and eat without choking. Ahura whined through much of it. “I was a walking disaster.”

Verna blinked away tears, sniffling. “I have faith that I’ll see her again. The Lord knows the cries of our heart, so it doesn’t matter if I wail and scream or stay silent. Neither would help, at any rate.”

Ahura looked at both of them, flopping his head back and forth. “ _Mah,_ ” he groaned, his recognition becoming increasingly clear. The emotion that exuded from him in waves was muddled and confused, above all else. He moved his arms, realized that his mobility was limited, and tried to shake off the weight. Medusa leaned in close and kissed Ahura’s forehead as she gently wrangled his arms back down. He did not put up much of a struggle.

“What was Maeve’s birth-mother like? I know so little of her,” Verna asked after Ahura settled.

Medusa did not meet Verna’s gaze. “I am ashamed to say that I was quite prejudiced against her. My disapproval of Maximus overshadowed her, though now I’ve reconsidered my feelings; she was patient with my children, and defended her relationship with Maximus. My children called her ‘auntie’ for the brief time they knew her.”

“Does Maeve resemble her at all? In terms of personality.”

“At times. She is more similar to you and Norm, honestly. I can think of no better parents for her.”

Such praise made Verna’s lip quiver once again. Maeve was her baby, and it did not matter that Verna was not the one to give birth to her. Verna loved Maeve, and she loved Mara for providing them with such a blessing. She and Norm prayed for Mara often, typically at night before they went to bed. Those were her favorite moments with Norm, when they sat on the edge of the bed, hands intertwined and foreheads touching, praying and feeling thankful for the good and the bad.

How she and Norm dealt with stress differed drastically, however. Where Verna felt the need to do something physical, such as cleaning or organizing something, Norm often retreated, as he did now. The solitude helped him think and process how he felt, whereas Verna cleaned as a mindful activity. Helping Medusa with Ahura made her at least feel useful.

Ahura dozed once again, freeing Medusa to check on the twins left in Irelle’s care. Since Irelle was a twin herself, she was savvy to the schemes the Boltagon twins tried to pull on her, though the methods were different. Irelle and Treste were identical, so they could switch identities for various reasons. The Boltagon twins were fraternal and relied on distraction, with one causing a disruption so the other could work their plan. At the moment they were devising a plan to sneak out of the infirmary and find Lockjaw to go play in the fountain of the courtyard.

With Ahura healing, Irelle felt more sure of herself. She resumed working with Vinatos to help take care of the prince and see other Inhumans, and it felt good to return to her routine once again. She was immediately released anytime the king or queen asked for her assistance minding the twins, however.

“Are you two behaving?” Medusa startled the twins as they conspired together in a corner, fully believing that no one knew what they were doing.

“Yes, mommy,” they called back.

“Well, whatever it is you’re _going_ to do better not result in misbehavior. The infirmary is not the place for such disruption. Do you understand?”

Anora and Daryn looked at each other, somewhat dejected that their plan was foiled before it even began. They wandered back to their pile of books and toys they brought that morning, choosing to work together on a small construction set. They knew that Maeve was missing, but what could they do? This was an issue for the adults to figure out.

Daryn sat up after they spread out the metallic pieces. “When can we see Hura?”

“When he wakes once again, though he may not wish to see any visitors.” Medusa used the moment to straighten a few locks of Anora’s stringy red hair. “He may be in pain.”

“I thought Doctor Vinatos was giving him medicine.”

“He is, but there is only so much Vinatos can give before it is no longer effective. I know you miss your brother.”

Anora sorted through a few pieces of the construction set, a sour look on her face. “He won’t be able to talk to us, so it doesn’t matter if we see him or not.”

“But he can still know what we say,” Daryn snapped back, ever defensive of his big brother. He was a sensitive little boy, and at times he felt hurt on behalf of another person. “I still want to see him.”

“Fine, _you_ see him. I don’t want to.” Anora huffed and pushed the small pile of construction pieces away, scooting herself backward with a scowl on her face. Medusa frowned at them both, curious as to where the sudden foul mood stemmed.

Before she could investigate further, the infirmary doors slid open and Black Bolt quietly slipped inside, directly followed by Lockjaw. Daryn immediately abandoned the construction set and went to his best canine friend, cuddling against a soft lump of wrinkly skin around Lockjaw’s shoulder.

Black Bolt telepathically spoke with Medusa, not wanting to give Norm or Verna false hope just yet. “ _We searched his apartment; Maximus must be moving because Lockjaw was unable to pinpoint him. He’s taking care of Maeve, it seems; there were tags for child-sized clothing all over the apartment._ ”

Medusa nodded, grateful that there was a modicum of positive news. Based on the account from Vinatos, Maximus wanted “Ona” returned to him even though there was recorded evidence of Maximus willfully giving up his claim to her before she was even a day old. Maeve was an orphan for all of about six hours before the Adams adopted her.

Black Bolt found Norm and Verna seated together with their foreheads touching, eyes closed, Norm muttering quietly between the two. He sniffled occasionally, stopping to clear the fog from his glasses during pauses.

Verna was the first to acknowledge Black Bolt. “Did you find anything?”

Black Bolt shook his head, still wary of giving them news that could lead to high hopes. Norm looked upward when Verna spoke, his face a mixture of sadness and aggravation.

“ _How are you doing?_ ”

Verna squeezed Norm’s hand. “As well as can be expected. Our faith is seeing us through.”

Norm nodded, uncertainty tainting his voice. “We will continue to praise the Lord, even through difficulties. Even if He takes her into His Glory, we will still be thankful. _The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord._ ”

Black Bolt momentarily froze then glanced to Medusa for assistance as to what Norm meant. He’d heard the verse before, but this was an odd context that he did not understand. _What does that mean?_

Medusa shrugged. “What do you mean by ‘His Glory’, Norm? Neither of us understand.”

“If she were to die.”

The statement slammed into Black Bolt’s chest as if he’d been shot. It sounded so...final, so fatalistic. Medusa found herself reaching for her husband’s arm, unsure of what to do or say. It made no sense to her: why would you praise a being that allows the death of your child?

Norm excused himself to pace the hallway once again, bringing his emotions back into check. Medusa sat in the vacated space and folded her hands together, eager to hear Verna’s clarification.

“It sounds as though he’s given up,” Medusa tried, careful in choosing her words.

“Norm doesn’t mean to be so harsh; the verse sounds much darker than its intent. He just means that we thank God for everything, the good _and_ the bad. There’s hope in knowing that whatever we do, God is still in control of the situation. It doesn’t mean we give up.”

Medusa still felt frustrated at the idea that “God” would even allow such a thing like this to happen. Religion and spiritual deities were always difficult for Medusa to digest. Based on some of the phrases used in typical Inhuman speech, it sounded as if they worshipped Randac, and for some that might be true, but at least with Randac there was direct proof of his existence. Medusa could trace Black Bolt’s lineage all the way back to Randac.

Black Bolt left the women to talk amongst themselves and checked in with his youngest children. With his niece missing, he needed a moment to appreciate that all three of his own were safe. Daryn tried to wind up Lockjaw to play, but teleporting so frequently wore the huge dog out. Instead Lockjaw flopped over and gently pawed at the little boy, knocking him down to make him giggle. Anora maintained her grumpy mood, snapping pieces of the construction set together and pretending to ignore her father as he scoot closer.

“ _Your mother said you are disagreeable,_ ” Black Bolt tried. Anora stuck her jaw out in defiance. “ _What leaves you feeling this way?_ ”

“I’m bored,” the little girl exclaimed, though Black Bolt did not fully believe her. Anora took after himself in that they rarely offered up their true emotions willingly, unlike Daryn who discussed how he felt freely. “And I did all my homework, so you don’t have to ask.”

Black Bolt nodded, not wanting to press the issue further. Something was bothering his little girl, but like her older brother she kept it to herself. As much as Ahura wanted to say he needed distance from his siblings, they took after him more than he realized.

“ _Is Ahura awake?_ ”

Anora shrugged, snapping together more pieces. “If he was awake then mommy wouldn’t be out here.”

The logic was sound, and Black Bolt found himself internally laughing. “ _That’s true, good point. Would you prefer to be by yourself for a bit?_ ”

Anora nodded once again and shuffled so she was facing away from everyone, pulling the pile of metallic pieces with her. Black Bolt had a few theories about what bothered her, but he didn’t press the issue.

 

* * *

 

Maximus held his breath as little Ona squirmed and shuffled, an indication that she was waking up. He felt nervous, as if they were meeting for the first time once again.

He stayed seated on the other bed when she first opened her eyes, fighting the urge to talk to her. Doing so might scare her if she wasn’t fully awake just yet. Her face registered concern at first, then after rubbing her eyes she called out to someone.

“Mommy?”

“It’s just me,” Maximus said, his voice quiet in an attempt to be soothing.

Ona sniffled as the realization set in that she was not near her “mother” or someone familiar. “Where’s my mommy?”

“I’m here with you; remember me, from the train station? I came to see you at the Quiet Room.”

The tears began in earnest, cascading down Ona’s pink cheeks in rivers. “I want my mommy! I want to go home!”

Maximus gripped the comforter of the bed, trying to stem his frustration. “Don’t you want to go on an adventure with me?”

“No! I don’t know you very much, and I want to go home. Where’s my mommy and daddy?”

He was quiet for a moment to let her cry, patiently sitting through her sobs. “Ona, the humans are not your mother and father,” he whispered.

“My name isn’t Ona! Stop calling me that!”

“ _Ona_ is what your name should’ve been, if the humans didn’t take you away from me. They renamed you.”

“Nuh uh, my name is Maeve. Mommy said she named me that when I was born and I lived in the warm box.”

Maximus was momentarily confused, until he realized that she meant the incubator that kept her alive after her traumatic birth. “The humans are not your mother and father. _I_ am your father; your mother died after your birth.”

The little girl grew visibly frustrated, wailing from fear and uncertainty. Nothing she said convinced this stranger that she did not belong to him. “I don’t like you, Max. You’re not my daddy! I want to go home and see my mommy and daddy.”

Maximus squeezed his hands together. He knew this would happen, that she would be upset and scared, but it still hurt his feelings.

“Listen, Ona. They are not your true mother and father. You were stolen from me when you were born and given to the humans. You’re not human, you’re _Inhuman_. Royalty, even. You’re the granddaughter of King Agon, the niece of Black Bolt-“

Ona quieted her cries at the mention of familiar names. “Papaw Agon is Anora and Daryn and Ahura’s grandpa, not mine.”

“Agon is my father, making you his granddaughter. Black Bolt is my brother, making you his niece.”

Now the little girl felt confused; her words weren’t being twisted, per se, just used in a new context. “Uncle B isn’t my _real_ uncle...”

“He is, Ona. Ahura, Anora, and Daryn are your cousins.”

Unsure what to say, feeling hopelessly confused, Ona burst into tears once again. When Maximus reached over to comfort her, the little girl swat at his hands and told him to go away. To give her some space, Maximus moved to the other side of the room and sat in the desk chair. Whenever Ona calmed down and wanted to talk, he would be ready.


	15. Chapter 15

Maeve woke up slowly, rubbing her eyes. Had she overslept? Why hadn't Mommy or Daddy come and woken her up? She blinked a few times at the unfamiliar room, then sat bolt upright when she saw the man from yesterday, sitting in a chair beside the bed, watching her. She kicked the covers off and scrambled to the floor, getting as far away from him as she could in the small room.

He stood and stretched, smiling at her. Maeve scowled and looked away. She wasn't going to talk to him, not after how he'd kept lying to her yesterday. As if Mommy and Daddy weren't her parents! It was stupid. So was he.

“Are you alright, Ona?” The bad man stepped closer.

She stamped her foot. “Don't call me that! I told you, that's NOT my name!”

“Now, now-”

“No! Don't talk to me. You're a bad liar and you're making me mad by saying stuff that isn't true. Leave me alone!”

He ignored her, coming over and trying to pick her up. “Listen, Ona-” 

She screamed, and kicked and thrashed, knowing this was a naughty thing to do, but also knowing she was supposed to make lots of noise and get attention if a stranger was scaring her, she'd learned that back in kindergarten. Maybe if she made enough noise, someone would come rescue her and she could get away from the bad man and go home to Mommy and Daddy where she was safe. Sucking in a deep breath, she screamed as loud as she could. “HELP-”

The man pressed his hand over her mouth to make her be quiet. Maeve responded by sinking her teeth into his hand to make him let her go. He hissed in pain, nearly dropping her. She was able to squirm out of his grasp as he muttered words in what Maeve thought was Tilan, clutching his bleeding hand. She ran forward, towards him, wriggling past, and was trying to unlock the door to this room and escape, when he caught hold of her again, wrapping his arms firmly round her, but holding her at a distance so she couldn't reach to kick him.

“Let me _go_!” She nearly shrieked, tears running down her face. “I wanna go home to Mommy and Daddy! I hate you!”

To her shock, the bad man- Maximus- actually looked hurt when she said that, and her tummy twisted. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, she was just scared because he'd stolen her and she wanted Mommy and Daddy. But now Max was nearly crying, and she felt sick. She hated upsetting people, that was a horrible thing to do. OK, he'd lied, saying he was her father, but maybe... maybe he had had a little girl, and she'd gone to Heaven, and Max was grieving and confused, and thought Maeve was his Ona? She knew sometimes people got sick in their minds and did things they didn't know were wrong... and if he had lost his family, then he was probably lonely, too. So she shouldn't be mean to him, she should be nice, until he worked out she wasn't really his, then he'd take her home again. She sniffed as Maximus wiped blood off his hand. He took a deep breath before smiling at her again. This time, she made herself smile back.

“Ona, what if I could prove that I'm telling the truth?”

He wasn't, she was still sure, but... “How?”

“What would you say if I told you that you're an Inhuman?” 

Maeve shook her head. “Nu-uh. Hura and Nora and Daryn are Inhumans, like Aunt Medusa and Uncle Bolt, but I'm not one.”

Max smoothed her hair. “Yes, you are. You don't have powers yet, but you will someday, when you're bigger. I bet you went to school with human children for a little while, didn't you, but you stopped because you were far cleverer than them. That's why you began lessons with your cousins, isn't it?”

“Y-yeah.” Maeve felt shaky now. How did Max know all that?” “But-”

He was nodding. “That's because our people are always far brighter, more intelligent than mere humans.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Didn't you ever think it strange that your hair and eye colors don't match your 'parents'? Or that they had no problem letting you spend all your time with Inhumans, rather than humans, even though you don't yet have powers?”

Maeve didn't know how to explain her blonde hair and brown eyes, but she did know why all her friends were Inhumans. “I- it- That's cos Hura lived with my parents when he was little, and so he's family, even though-”

“His real parents came and took him back.” Max butted in. “And now you're older, I'm doing the same, taking you back where you belong.”

Tears stung Maeve's eyes again, and her tummy and throat hurt. Max's story made sense, but she wouldn't believe it, she _wouldn't_. She wasn't Ona, she was Maeve Adams, and her parents lived in New York- they'd even told her about when she was a baby! They weren't _lying_  to her, they couldn't be! But Max seemed so sure of what he was saying... “I wanna go home,” she whimpered, too confused to think straight anymore. “Please, please, take me home, Max.”

He looked a bit annoyed now, and opened his mouth to reply, but a knock on the door interrupted him.

“Open up. Police.”

Max cursed, scrambling up from where he'd been kneeling in front of Maeve, placing a hand on her head and speaking in a deep voice. “Calm down, Ona. Go do some coloring.”

Everything went foggy, then Maeve was sitting at the table, her coloring book open, holding a crayon, her hand moving to finish one of the pictures. How had that happened? Something wan't right, but she couldn't think why...

Max was at the door, speaking quietly to two policemen. After a few minutes, the men looked around the room, slowly, like they were half asleep, then they turned and left. Maeve thought maybe they could help her, if she got up and told them Max had stolen her, but her legs wouldn't move when she tried. She just kept coloring, for some weird reason. Once the policemen were gone, Max moved fast, tossing piles of clothes into a bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he came and took her hand. “Come on, we have to go somewhere else now.”

Maeve's heart leaped. “Are you taking me back to Mommy and Daddy?”

Max scowled, making his face look a bit scary. He pressed his hand to her head again. “Sleep.”

Maeve yawned, rubbing her eyes, then her head drooped forward. She was so tired, but... “Mommy and Daddy...” Her eyes drifted shut.

 

* * *

 

Frank McGee and Gorgon both had similar expressions of frustration on their faces as they used Inhuman technology to listen in on any and all police reports around the greater New York area, in the hope that Maximus had left some kind of trace, somewhere, of himself and little Maeve. Gorgon was pacing back and forth, growling.

“If I'd just been permitted to dispose of that lunatic years ago, we wouldn't now be in this mess!” The hooved Inhuman all but roared.

Frank privately agreed, but, “Losing your temper won't help us find clues any faster.”

“Bah!” Gorgon glowered at the device he held, as if he could intimidate the handheld computer into providing useful information. His left hoof pounded the floor, making the whole room rumble. “It's been over a day already! And who knows what might be happening to that child?”

Frank was about to reply when he spotted something weird on a police report he'd been skimming through, from a smaller force, just outside Albany. “Hey. Check this out.”

“What?” Gorgon stomped over and loomed over Frank, reading over his shoulder. “Bah. Two incompetent human law enforcers investigated a disturbance in some temporary lodgings and forgot all about what they saw by the time it came to make a record of it. This is not useful!”

Frank ignored Gorgon's outburst, scrolling back through the information he had. “Wrong. They were called to check out reports of a hysterical screaming child, in a hotel room. Hotel footage given to state police shows the room was paid for in cash by a black haired guy with no ID, carrying a sleeping kid.” He met Gorgon's eyes. “Local CCTV cameras show the cops did go into the hotel, but now both are saying they never went inside at all. Almost like someone doesn't want them to remember whatever they might've seen, don't you think?”

Gorgon straightened, nodding. “I will inform the king and queen at once. Maximus won't slip through our fingers again!”

Frank stifled a sigh as the Inhuman royal left. He'd never say it, but Gorgon seemed more concerned with catching Maximus than he did with making sure Maeve Adams was safe. “I really feel sorry for that guy's kids.” He muttered as he followed him, to report what they'd learned to Black Bolt and Medusa. Chances were, Maximus was long gone- whatever else that guy was, he wasn't an idiot, and he wouldn't hang around now cops had found him. But at least they knew that the kid was safe, if upset, and they had an idea of where to focus their search. This would be sorted soon- but not soon enough for poor Norm and Verna Adams. Frank couldn't imagine how terrified he'd feel if something happened to Irelle or Treste, and they were in their twenties! Having a six-year-old go missing, in the hands of someone crazy like Maximus.... Frank just hoped the kid wasn't traumatized too badly when they finally got her back. Who knew what sort of garbage Maximus was filling her head with?


	16. Chapter 16

In the nearly ten year span that Rila sporadically visited New Attilan, she had to admit that she was not a fan of the decorum. Maybe it was the stark contrast to New York’s often chaotic appearance, the quiet, the lack of color...whatever it was, Rila was not impressed. The only thing she could appreciate was the open space for her son to run around knowing he was safe.

She did have to admit, however, that it was much easier to guide Reader and carry their son at the same time without the throngs of people that inhabited New York streets. Gerry was capable of walking on his own, but at only four he was still fairly small and easily missed in a crowd. Reader could navigate himself far more easily in New Attilan than he could by walking New York streets alone. Since he often counted his steps, having to move out of people’s way threw off his count. The one time he tried to traverse New York on his own with Gerry, he was so lost and confused that he paid the exorbitant fare for a taxi to take them home.

Once they made it across the bridge into New Attilan, Reader let go of Rila’s arm and strolled independently once he unsnapped his cane. Just in case, he brought his modified cane that could become a bo staff as needed; he doubt he actually would need it but it wouldn’t hurt to have. The small family had jobs to do: Rila would work with Ahura since the young man was awake and finding communication difficult, Reader would help with the search for Maeve, and little Gerry would play with the twins and keep them company.

“ _Anaana_ , do I go work with you?” Gerry idly bobbed his feet up and down, his head on Rila’s shoulder.

“Nope, you get to play with Black Bolt and Medusa’s kids,” Rila said against the little boy’s strawberry-blond head. “Prince Ahura is hurt, so mommy needs all of her concentration today.”

“Do he got an ouch?”

“Yeah, he does. Maybe Lockjaw will be there and you can play with him as well.”

“Who’s a Lockjaw?”

Reader adjusted the cover over his eyes that resembled glasses. “Lockjaw is a _qimmeq_ , Ger. Like Forey, but much bigger.”

Gerry pretended to bark a few times at the thought of playing with a dog. Forey, who was at home, was too old to play for long and sometimes Gerry accidentally made Forey mad or was too rough with him. Forey was Reader’s retired seeing-eye dog who Reader refused to “replace.” Besides, having a toddler who felt obligated to comment on _everything_ made up for the lack of service animal.

As the twins did when they were younger, Gerry often mixed up the various languages he heard throughout the day. The little boy’s Inhuman gift made him a hyperglot who spoke not only English and Tilan, but the first and second languages of his parents as well. Along with English and Tilan, Gerry could speak his father’s first and second languages, Orlan and Greenlandic, and could sign better than the twins at twice his age. Gerry absorbed languages like a vacuum, but it did cause shifts in grammar at times. He tried to make new words in one language with the rules of another. Gerry also couldn’t escape the “baby talk” people used around him due to his age, so he did use words such as “boo-boo” and “potty” like most four-year-olds.

Orlan, the language of Orollan, was a stew of Old Tilan, Greenlandic, and some Dutch. For Reader, who grew up within the Lor tribe of Orollan, Orlan was the predominant spoken language they used, followed by Greenlandic for writing. Orlan did not have its own written system since the tribe was nomadic, but because Orlan already used many Greenlandic words, the two languages were indistinguishable to people who did not read either. At home Reader spoke an equal mix of Orlan and Greenlandic around the house and to Gerry, neither of which Rila spoke beyond a few basic words. To be fair, Reader also could not sign, so Rila and Gerry had their own secret conversations without him at times.

As they made their way to the infirmary, Rila thought back to how she and Reader met. They met at the Quiet Room when Ahura was still in “school” and Rila served as his interpreter. Reader was on New Attilan’s security force at the time, working with Black Bolt on a contract basis. Where humans shunned Rila for her elf-like appearance and purple skin, Reader loved to imagine what she looked like. Since he lacked eyes, Reader obviously did not find her appearance startling or abnormal. He did use Forey to “see” her by reading one of his Braille cards, but he could not see her skin color since dogs have no color vision. Utilizing his Inhuman gifts in such a way for an extended period of time tired Forey, so Reader only used the power a few times.

They began dating shortly after they met, though they never married. Reader came up with dozens of excuses: it wasn’t the right time, he was too old for her, she was not even old enough to drink. But Rila could tell Reader feared commitment; living a nomadic lifestyle made settling down difficult for Reader. Reader never sought an outside relationship once they began dating, and four years later Rila found herself pregnant. They named the little guy after her father, Gerald, and Reader’s father, Rasmûse. Reader often joked that he and Rila were married without the paperwork.

Vinatos wanted to study Gerry, since the little boy was one of the increasing numbers of “mixed” children between Inhumans and Nuhumans. Reader vehemently protested the idea and was suspicious anytime Rila brought their little boy near the doctor. Vinatos would have to settle for observational data only.

The trio met Medusa at the main entrance to the infirmary, frustration sketched across her face. “Good morning. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“No problem at all,” Rila said, allowing Gerry to walk on his own. His light-up sneakers blinked and flashed with every step. “How’s Ahura?”

“Angry. His comprehension is low from the medication and without much use of his arms he’s relying on his astral projections to communicate. Even the projections are difficult to understand.”

They sauntered into the infirmary to the sound of Anora and Daryn bickering about whose turn it was to use the data pad. Medusa broke up the argument by using a lock of hair to remove the device entirely.

“Hey! It was my turn,” Daryn whined.

“You both have used it enough the past few days,” replied Medusa, her voice permitting no discussion. “Besides, Reader and Rila have brought Gerald to play with you.”

Gerry met the twins a few times so they weren’t strangers, but he did not know them as well as some of the kids in his apartment building. Rila encouraged Gerry to go with the twins into the waiting room, pleased that Anora brought them over to the coloring supplies first. With the children occupied, Medusa brought Rila deeper into the infirmary while Black Bolt went with Reader to the main security area, Gorgon and Frank McGee trudging alongside.

They found Ahura attempting to feed himself rather unsuccessfully with his better arm. The gross motor movement needed to bring his arm to the plate was there, but not the fine motor movement to scoop. When he noticed his mother and Rila enter, he dropped the spoon and shoved the rolling table away.

Verna sat in the guest chair next to the bed, a flustered look on her face. “He won’t let me help.”

Medusa formed her lips into a thin line. The inability for Boltagon men to accept help was practically a genetic trait. “My love, Rila is here to help ease communication.”

Medusa looked over to Rila to see what she did; rather than interpreting the whole phrase, she condensed it greatly. “ _I help._ ”

Ahura blinked once, and for a moment Medusa was not sure he understood until he minutely nodded. The bruising around his throat now formed thick dark splotches vaguely finger-shaped, making movement painful at times.

He called forth an astral ghost that wavered and flickered rather than maintaining the strong blue hue. “ _My alone food myself. Verna-mom eat please._ ”

The phrases seemed to contradict each other until Rila added it to the context of what they saw when walking in. “‘I want to feed myself. Verna also needs to eat.’”

Ahura lipread as Rila spoke, sighing deeply when she made sense of what he was trying to get across. “He needs to sit up further to eat or he’ll choke and hurt his ribs again,” said Verna, pointing to the button that angled the bed.

“ _Bed raise, eat._ ” Rila kept everything simplistic, paring down sentences to their most basic components.

Ahura attempted to reach over and press the button himself but yelped when the movement caused his wrist pain. Verna pressed the button for him before he could protest.

Rila could only watch Ahura eat, or attempt to, for about five minutes before she grabbed the spoon out of his hand and bent it into an odd angle. His problem was not so much the gross motor movement of bringing the spoon upward, it was the fine motor movement of turning his wrist toward his mouth. She shaped the spoon into a 45-degree angle so Ahura did not need to turn his wrist at all.

Satiated, Ahura sank into the pillows against his back and slowly looked towards his astral ghost to help his concentration so it would sign stronger. _”Maeve find yet?”_

 _”Not yet,”_ signed Medusa. At least she understood that much. _”Still looking.”_

_”Norm where?”_

The three women looked around, suddenly noticing Norm’s absence. Verna tugged her phone from her pocket to text him; Norm typically retreated from others when he was upset but he never disappeared entirely.

Verna’s phone flashed a few moments later, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief. “He’s with Agon.”

Medusa furrowed her eyebrows. “Agon? I did not expect that.”

Even as Medusa spoke, a second message came through providing more of an explanation. “He said since everyone was in New Attilan, he wanted to make sure Agon had companionship for the day.”

With all of the trauma and unexpected events over the past few days, Medusa honestly forgot about Agon for a time as her father-in-law was at the bottom of her priority list at the moment. More than likely Flagman stopped in to check on Agon throughout the day; Agon’s lucidity was questionable at times but not so lax that he did not take care of himself physically. Norm met Agon multiple times, the first being the night they brought baby Daryn home after Maximus kidnapped him. Once Norm and Verna adopted Maeve and began bringing her by for play dates with the twins, they sometimes visited with Agon as well.

With Ahura’s communication issues somewhat resolved, Medusa sent a message to Frank McGee to ask about the investigation. Frank, Reader, Gorgon, and Black Bolt were huddled around a computer screen reviewing security footage of a hotel in Albany, not terribly far from New York City.

The video clearly showed Maximus carrying Maeve who appeared more like a rag doll in her sleeping state. Maximus was never able to master forcing someone to fall asleep so that it looked natural; the victim just dropped to the floor in a heap. Usually Maximus had to position the person in such a way to look like natural sleep. Maeve was so limp that her feet and arms dangled loosely, though Black Bolt could see the little girl was still breathing by the rise in her shoulders.

To anyone else, the pair would look like a regular human father whose daughter fell asleep in the car before arriving. Gorgon and Black Bolt knew better.

After describing the images on the screen for Reader, Frank made a call to the police precinct that sent him the footage asking for the specific address of the hotel. They would need a warrant to obtain records from the hotel, which the other precinct could obtain within a few hours, but they could still go and question the desk worker.

Black Bolt mentally called for Lockjaw, who shifted into view panting with excitement and the stump of his tail wagging. He assumed Lockjaw was playing with the children immediately prior, based on Lockjaw’s excitability. The huge dog loved little people, humans and Inhumans alike, and never turned down the opportunity to play unless he was called to do something else. Most likely Black Bolt would get an earful from Daryn later for interrupting their playtime together.

With the address in hand, Frank was able to find a picture of the area so Lockjaw knew where to take them. To draw as little attention as possible, Black Bolt had Lockjaw teleport to an abandoned warehouse of some kind nearby. The moment Lockjaw sifted away once again, Gorgon angrily tapped his foot, the tip of his boot clacking against the ground.

“Boots are pointless,” he growled, the frustration obvious. “My hooves are not meant for them.”

“But they look so good on you, very chic,” said Reader with a smug grin. Gorgon barely hid the snarl in his throat.

Black Bolt pointed in the direction they needed to go and the group made their way down the street, Gorgon’s boots falling heavy against the ground in irritation. The boots were engineered especially for his hooves to roll heel to toe in the same manner as a regular foot. This allowed him to blend with humans somewhat easier, though he still appeared intimidating.

Most of the stares the group received were because of Reader’s long white cane, something to which he’d grown used to a long time ago. He was an oddity even amongst Inhumans, as disabilities were extremely rare. Usually if an Inhuman had a disability it was acquired, such as Ahura’s hearing. Reader’s was forced: after terrigenesis, he spent much of the day unsure what his powers were until he tried to read himself to sleep that evening. A near uncontrollable fire started after he read _Fahrenheit 451_ , burning down at least a quarter of the village. Once the fire was contained, the elders deliberated for less than a day to remove Reader’s eyes entirely. Sometimes Reader was grateful: he didn’t have to view the charred corpses of his parents when the ash and rubble were cleared away.

In the hotel, the desk worker stopped and stared at the group walking through the sliding door. Frank took charge, rooting through his pants pocket for his badge and handing it to the worker.

“My name is Detective Frank McGee, I believe someone from the police precinct here called about us.”

The worker, Elaine, peered over the desk at the badge to verify its authenticity. “Someone did, but I don’t remember her name. She said you would be here much later, though.”

“We travel pretty fast,” Frank waved away, unwilling to go into the fact that it took them seconds to travel about 170 miles. He unfolded a thick, glossy sheet of paper and slid it across the countertop. “I need information about this man and the little girl.”

Elaine studied the photo, biting her bottom lip. “He looks familiar, but I don’t remember checking him in.”

“Is that you in the photo?”

“Yes, yes, that’s me. I’m not sure...do you know his name? I might be able to find him in our log.”

“Maximus. Boltagon.” Frank looked over to Black Bolt for his approval to give out the full name. The Royals rarely gave their full name, similar to the way British royalty rarely used theirs.

Elaine clacked away at the computer, shaking her head when the name did not appear. “No one by that name.”

“Can you give me a print out of all the people that have checked in or out over the past three days?”

“I don’t think I can,” Elaine said slowly, unsure if it was something she were allowed to do. “I think it’s something I need to ask my supervisor about.”

Elaine punched some numbers into the phone, holding one finger up as it dialed. “Hey, Nadim, the police officer is here...yeah, I’ll let him know.” Elaine smiles at the group, hanging up the phone. “Nadim will be down soon. Would you like to have a seat? Can I get you anything?”

Black Bolt shook his head, the others following suit. Reader clacked his cane against the floor to gauge the size of the lobby, the lack of echo suggesting that it was not a huge place. An elevator bell dinged down the hall and a few moments later the supervisor took his place behind the desk next to Elaine. In his hands was a stack of papers.

“What can I do for you, Officer?”

Frank flashed his badge once again. “I’m needing the check-in and check-out records of this hotel for the past few days.”

Nadim thumbed through the stack and separated a few pages. He set them on the counter and slid them forward, only to jerk them back at the last second. “I’m sorry, do you have the warrant? The names of our guests are private information.”

Frank shook his head. “The precinct was supposed to fax it over. Are those the records?”

“They are, but unfortunately until I receive the warrant there isn’t anything I can do.”

“Now, look here-“

“That’s fine, we can wait until you receive it,” Reader interrupted. Frank turned around to glare at the eyeless Inhuman. “We can just wait here in the lobby. Are there any couches nearby, or maybe some chairs? Can someone guide me to them?”

Frank inhaled deeply and stepped away from the desk. Reader reached into his pocket for a key ring of small plastic squares similar in size to dominos and thumbed through them as Frank nudged Reader’s elbow.

“One second, I just need to read something, and...there. You should be able to look through the papers now,” said Reader with a satisfied grin.

Elaine and Nadim were suddenly stiff as if frozen in a photograph. The ambiance music playing throughout the lobby silenced, as did the noise of the air conditioner and television. Frank shuffled around, trying to figure out what happened.

“What did you do?”

Reader held up his keyring. “This little square has the word ‘stop’ on it in Braille. I use it when I want to stop time. Hurry up and read through the papers, this wears me out.”

Black Bolt tugged the papers free and flipped through them, searching for a name that appeared familiar. He reached the third page when one finally stood out.

 _Dan Johnson._ Black Bolt pointed the name out to Frank and Gorgon, nodding. He then pointed to his ring finger and gestured as if using the phone. _Call Medusa._

Frank tried to place the papers back in Nadim’s hands but settled for leaving them stacked on the counter. Reader flipped through his keyring once again to find a tiny placard that read ‘start,’ causing Nadim and Elaine to continue moving. He could hear Nadim make a confused grunt as he realized the papers were no longer in his hand.

Foregoing the couches inside the lobby, the group went outside to the parking lot so Frank could use the phone. He dialed Medusa immediately. “Medusa? Yeah, it’s Frank. Black Bolt showed us a name that came up in the hotel’s records; the name Dan Johnson mean anything to you?”

Frank nodded, then gave a smug grin. “Perfect...sure, I can do that. Yes, ma’am, thank you.” He hung up his phone and addressed Gorgon and Reader. “Maximus used to work for a Dan, and Johnson was the last name he used in Minnesota instead of Boltagon.”

“So now we wait for someone to register under that name,” Gorgon mused. “There must be a thousand hotels in the surrounding area.”

“True, but if we set up an alert for ‘Dan Johnson’ checking in with a little girl, that will narrow it down tremendously. Let’s head back,” Frank finalized. “I’ll need to stop by my precinct to get everything set up.”

 

* * *

 

At the apartments above the Quiet Room, Agon and Norm were seated across from one another at Agon’s small dining table. Norm was waiting for Agon to calm down after he explained what Maximus did, throwing Agon into a rage in which he paced back and forth making threats towards his son.

After a few minutes of Agon considering all the various ways he’d execute Maximus, he slumped his shoulders forward in fatigue and sat across from Norm. “My son does nothing but disappoint me.”

Norm folded his hands and placed them on the table. “You love him, though.”

“He makes doing so very difficult.” Agon alternated between crossing his arms and clasping his hands together on his lap. “My wife and I had such high hopes for him when we discovered we were expecting him. After all we went through with Blackagar, the sadness and fear of losing him to the chamber, we gave everything we could to Maximus. And yet he is an evil, greedy, irredeemable criminal.”

Norm removed his glasses to clean them with the tail of his shirt. Today he did not wear his collar and opted for regular clothing instead. “In our faith, no one is irredeemable. When I tell parishioners that, they hear ‘forgive everything the person ever does,’ but that’s not the intention. Sometimes the people who are the hardest to redeem are the ones that need it most, but that doesn’t mean their behaviors and acts magically disappear. Forgiveness doesn’t mean you stop feeling what you feel, it means you give up the right to take revenge.”

Agon scratched underneath his chin where his beard itched. “May I ask you something, Mr. Adams? Why is it that you never had children of your own?”

“Oh, we tried,” Norm grinned, his cheeks turning vaguely pink. “We tried for years, but we were unsuccessful. Then we looked into adoption, but many agencies denied us. Some claimed that since my eyesight is so poor I would be unable to properly care for a child so they disqualified us, others stated that we did not earn enough on a priest’s salary. When Ahura came into our lives he was an answer to our prayers but God only meant for us to have him for a short time. My wife and I were so blessed that he was ‘ours.’”

“The healers in New Attilan can correct your eyesight.”

Norm shook his head, smiling all the while. “My vision problems are something God gave me and meant for me to overcome.”

“Bah, you sound like Ahura,” Agon scoffed, folding his arms once again. “Either way, I would rather Ahura ascend the throne over Maximus. When I first met my grandson I was...ashamed, for lack of a better word. I was unsure how Ahura would function let alone become king. He’s impulsive and often bitter, but he’s still an adolescent. With some discipline he will become a fine man.”

“It’s strange to think of him as an adolescent still. To humans he’s an adult.”

“Far from it, he will be considered an adult in about ten years. Blackagar and Medusalith were practically children themselves when he was born.”

Norm furrowed his eyebrows, a thought popping up in his mind. “You know, I’ve never actually thought about how old Black Bolt and Medusa are.”

“Blackagar is...51,” Agon said after quickly crunching the numbers. “Medusalith is 49, I believe.”

“Wow, I wouldn’t have guessed a day over thirty. Wait, if they were younger than Ahura is now, who is still considered an adolescent, wouldn’t they have be-“

Agon nodded, his arms folded once again. “As I said, they were practically children. The human equivalent would have been about 14 or so. Blackagar is the youngest monarch in the history of Attilan to have children. For context, I was 78 when he was born, my wife was 81.”

The long lifespan of an Inhuman did not phase Norm. Instead, a compassionate sadness crept over Norm’s features. “No wonder they had so many difficulties with Ahura when he was younger, they had barely experienced life when he was born.”

Agon sat back on his chair once again and crossed his arms. Sometimes Norm’s cheeriness frustrated him: it was not practical to be so positive all the time, especially in the face of tragedy. Other times he wished Blackagar would emulate Norm and be less stoic around his children, but Agon only had himself to blame for that.

“My memory of Maeve’s birth is sporadic, at best,” said Agon after a few quiet moments. “When Blackagar told me that humans would adopt her, I do not recall how I felt about the situation. It was still the early days of my recovery. But I do know _now_ that I’m grateful you took her in, Mr. Adams. She’s such a loving little girl. After I failed in raising my own sons, especially Maximus, it is nice to know there is brightness in my legacy.”

Norm smiled widely, albeit somewhat embarrassed by praise from a king. “My wife and I are truly blessed. Even in dark moments like these we still have reason to be thankful. Through all of this, we’ve come to know more about you and your family.”

“Rynda would likely never have set the child down, she would’ve loved Maeve so,” Agon chuckled to himself. “The poor girl would’ve never learned to walk.”

“I’m sure Maeve would’ve loved her just as much.”


	17. Chapter 17

Maximus was grimacing as he set Ona down as softly as he could on the bed in the _tiny_  motel he had chosen for its low price. Not that he was paying, he had simply made the overweight, balding, odious human clerk not see them, but he had learned that places with lower costs were less scrupulous about who their guests were, and he had needed to get off the streets as soon as possible. Ona, still in her induced sleep, had been a deadweight by the time he'd found this fleabag motel, as he believed humans referred to it, (though he privately thought flea- _infested_  a more apt name) and setting her down had been a relief. He rubbed his aching shoulder, trying to ease the pain. He had scribbled 'D. Johnson' on the ill-kept register, in the slot for Room 6, on the off chance that someone else stopped by- he didn't want to deal with the possibility of this room being given to someone else, and have to wipe _more_  human minds- best to leave proof that this room was taken.

Ona whimpered, and her eyes roved under their closed lids. Maximus started- had he released his mental hold on her without realizing? Was she waking up?

She tossed and turned a few more times, tears trickling down her face, and Maximus' heart constricted. She was so very young, and seeing her crying, even in her sleep, hurt him.

Ona rubbed her face into the grubby bed, as if dreaming that she was snuggled up to someone. “Mommy...” Her little voice, slurred with sleep, cracked. “I miss you. And Daddy. I wanna come home...” She turned over again, the expression on her sleeping face heartbreaking. Maximus tore his gaze away, clenching his fists, crushing the guilt that was trying to flood his mind. _I am doing nothing wrong here, she's my daughter!_ But a chill ran down his spine, an inkling that this was wrong...

Ona whimpered again, trembling now, in spite of still being asleep. “Mommy, Daddy, where are you?”

Maximus turned his back, closing his eyes, unable to bear looking at her any more, scrubbing at his face with his hands, then raking them through his hair. He inhaled deeply. “I'm not the bad guy here...” 

Ona made a sniffling sound, curling up fetally. “I'm not Ona, I'm Maeve. Don't call me that. Please!”

Unable to bear it, Maximus glanced over his shoulder at her. Her little hand was outstretched, as if reaching for someone. “Daddy!”

Maximus recoiled, away from her, his face contorted in anguish. He slammed a fist into the wall. “Damn it!”

He cursed himself for it seconds later: Ona sat bolt upright with a shriek, her eyes wildly scanning her surroundings. When her gaze fell on Maximus, her face crumpled. He tried for a reassuring smile, and stepped closer, but she scrambled backwards, sobbing.

“Leave me alone!”

Maximus yanked at his hair again, clenching and unclenching his fists. This wasn't how it was meant to go! He'd thought Ona would be pleased to learn about her true heritage, that she would accept him and he could be a good father, but...

 _You gave her up_. A chilling voice echoed in his mind. He half shook his head. No, no, that wasn't what had happened, was it? He closed his eyes tightly, struggling to remember, to piece together the shattered fragments that he recalled from the days after Ona's birth....

_“ **I can’t take care of her, brother.”**_

Black Bolt had looked at him, puzzled.

 ** _“I’m not fit to raise her, Black Bolt. You and I both know she would not fare well under me. She would be better off with someone else. Someone who could raise her properly, not a madman.”_**  

In the present, seeing this play out in his mind, Maximus frowned. Had he _really_  said that, all those years ago?

 ** _“I’m forfeiting my claim to her. Vinatos knows already. Take care of her, brother, but please don’t tell her of her parentage. She doesn’t deserve to be persecuted on behalf of my name.”_**  

Maximus' eyes shot open as the full recollection of those days hit him. He really _had_ given his baby girl up... He reeled, his eyes brimming with tears, bile rising in his throat. He looked at Ona- no, not Ona, Maeve- curled up on a filthy, stained bed, miles from the only home she'd known, snatched by a complete stranger.

He shook his head, bitter tears falling. What had he done? “Ona- Maeve- I'm so sorry-”

She recoiled again when he reached for her, and he bowed his head in shame. He deserved that- and worse. He'd stolen an innocent six year old from parents who loved her... He'd nearly killed his own nephew in order to do so...

Nails digging into the palms of his clenched fists, he went and grabbed the primitive human cordless phone. He set it gently on the bed beside Maeve, then backed off.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put you through this.” It was all he could say, and he knew it would never, ever be enough. He found himself fidgeting with the medication bracelet. Maybe this device doing its job was why his memory was clearing up? It hardly mattered though- he deserved imprisonment again for this, at the very least. “Do you know how to use that to call your huma- your parents?”

Maeve was already pressing buttons frantically, and holding the device to her ear, so he assumed that was a yes. He left her on the bed, sitting down cross-legged in the corner of the room, unmoving. He had no doubt that Lockjaw would bring whoever was searching for Maeve here within minutes of her making contact with someone at home.

They would be angry. He wouldn't fight. He deserved whatever came his way this time, and he knew it. He wouldn't delude himself into thinking otherwise again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sentences in italic are character thoughts; sentences in italic and bold are memories of the past.


	18. Chapter 18

“Mama, my stomach hurts.”

Medusa peeked from underneath a lock of hair to find Daryn standing next to the bed, still in his pajamas, his arms folded over his abdomen. She pushed back the comforter and sat up slowly, nudging Daryn to take her place next to Black Bolt. The little boy crawled onto the bed and curled into a ball, groaning into the pillow loud enough to wake his father. Medusa bent at her waist to kiss Daryn’s forehead. “Do you want some of the milk Vinatos gave you?”

Daryn nodded, squinting his eyes to will the pain in his stomach and chest away. His weak stomach muscles plagued him since he was a newborn, causing an acid reflux flare every six months or so, but in times of stress they happened more frequently. Black Bolt sat up and looked at the time, mentally groaning—he’d only gone to bed about two hours beforehand.

Medusa returned with the bottle of medicine in one hand and a cup of water in the other. The medicine was merely a strong antacid mixed with melatonin to help him relax and sleep, but Daryn often complained about the chalky taste. He sat up long enough to drink the measured amount and the water, then settled back into bed next to his father.

_”He’s been getting flares more frequently lately,”_ Black Bolt noted to his wife telepathically. 

_”Vinatos said it was due to all the stress of the past week.”_ Medusa used her hair to tuck Daryn in just as the little boy yawned deeply, thankful for the soothing effect the medicine had on his esophagus. Once the medicine worked through his system, he would likely sleep through much of the morning.

Black Bolt settled himself back into bed but found it difficult to sleep. He worried over so much: Maximus and Maeve, Ahura, Anora being obstinate, his father’s lapses in lucidity, and now Daryn’s stomach issues. At least with Daryn they could fix the issue directly.

Daryn inched himself underneath Black Bolt’s arm, his back against his father’s hip. Ahura hated cuddling like this as a small child, so Black Bolt had to almost learn how to do so when the twins were born. Each twin had a different preference; Anora liked sleeping in the large bed but did not like to be touched, whereas Daryn needed touch to relax. More than once Daryn kicked one of his parents in his sleep as a toddler.

Medusa ambled into the kitchen to make herself some tea. She felt helpless, although not entirely hopeless. If Maximus cared so much for Maeve, his Ona, he had no reason to hurt her. Medusa often wondered if the telepathic connection she had with her husband could also work with Maximus, as if it were a genetic trait, but she never followed through with testing the idea. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could telepathically convince Maximus to bring Maeve home. Sitting alone in the kitchen gave her mental space to at least think about it, and her gut feeling told her Maeve was physically well.

She sipped at her tea until the sun rose and Anora scuttled out of the twins’ bedroom. “Mom? Daryn isn’t in his bed again.”

“Good morning, my love. No, Daryn is in my bed; his stomach was bothering him.”

“Oh,” Anora shrugged, not really sure what to say. Daryn complained about his stomach all the time. “Is he gonna sleep all day then?”

“I won’t allow him to sleep past breakfast, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Anora made an exasperated face that she attempted to hide from her mother. “It’s not fair he gets to sleep as long as he wants.”

Medusa’s face did not change, though internally she was rather taken aback. “No one woke you.”

“Yeah, but if I slept all the time like he does you would make me get up.” Anora crossed her arms in a half-hearted attempt at a pout.

“I’ll ask that you show your brother compassion, Anora. He doesn’t _choose_ to sleep so heavily, the medicine fatigues him.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes while Anora swung her feet below the chair. Medusa finished the last of her tea before Anora spoke again.

“I bet he’s faking it and his stomach doesn’t really hurt.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s being a baby,” Anora rephrased. Medusa allowed the moment to hang as she gathered her thoughts.

“Young lady, what is causing this attitude that you’ve had over the past week? Your father and I have reached the end of our patience with such behavior.”

Behind her, a small stack of books resting on a coffee table fell to the floor without any apparent physical interference. Anora hardened her face as the books hit the floor, heavy thunk sounds reverberating throughout the living room. Medusa turned to look at the books, then back around to her daughter. “That’s enough. Return them to the table, please.”

“No.”

“Anora Boltagon, I’ll not ask you again.”

“No!”

“Then you may leave my presence and return to your room for the remainder of the morning.”

Anora shoved the chair back with a loud screech and stomped back into her room, telekinetically knocking over small objects as she went. Medusa gripped her mug tightly as the door slammed, hoping the sound did not wake her husband or her son. Soon enough, Black Bolt angrily loomed in the doorway, disheveled and haggard from interrupted sleep.

“ _What in Randac’s name is going on?_ ”

Medusa pursed her lips and looked to the twins’ bedroom door as more _thunk_ sounds echoed from behind it. “Temper tantrum. She was insulting her brother for being ill, and I wouldn’t have it. Her attitude is no longer tolerable.”

Black Bolt walked over to his youngest children’s room, listening for a moment. When he heard noises that sounded like drawers sliding open and shut, he quickly opened the door without knocking to find the twins’ room in a disastrous state. Anora managed to pull decorative items from the walls, scatter bedclothes all over the room, and upend the contents of their dresser drawers. In the center of the room Anora stood, her telekinesis on full display as she tossed toys about. Black Bolt clapped his hands, loudly, to break Anora’s concentration. Instantly the items fell to the floor.

“ _What is the meaning of this?!_ ”

Anora kicked at a pillow in front of her, her fists balled. “What do I do with the mad that I feel?”

Medusa joined her husband in the doorframe, unsure what Anora meant. She opened her mouth to speak but Anora cut her off.

“ _I don’t know how to feel mad!_ You don’t ever let me be mad and I don’t know what to do with it. And I don’t know how to feel sad because you don’t talk about it ever. I want to feel sad about Maeve and Ahura and Uncle Max but I don’t know if I’m feeling sad right!”

Anora’s lip trembled as her diatribe continued until her face broke and she cried into her elbow. Black Bolt approached her slowly, then tugged her elbow free so he could pick her up. Anora sniffled into Black Bolt’s shoulder.

“I feel sad and scared and mad all the time. What am I supposed to do with it all?”

Medusa tucked some of Anora’s stringy curls behind her ear. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling sad, my love. Or scared, or mad. There’s no right or wrong way to feel them. The only thing you can do is make better choices in expressing them.”

“Am I in trouble?”

Black Bolt minutely grinned into the top of his daughter’s head where she could not see his face. 

“No, my love. So long as you express how you feel in a healthy way, you’ll never be in trouble for doing so. You will straighten your room, however.”

Anora lifted her head to survey the damage, gazing at the disaster area that was her and Daryn’s room. The twins really needed their own individual spaces at this point; maybe after this meltdown was over and Ahura healed they could discuss moving one twin into Ahura’s room. 

Typically if Anora were being a defiant brat, Medusa would make her clean the room manually and without the aid of her telekinesis. This morning she did not want to push the issue and allowed Anora to do so however she wanted. By the time the drawers were replaced and beds re-made, Anora wore herself back down. She found La-La against a wall behind her bed, whereupon she carried the little toy over to Black Bolt and Medusa’s room and gently tucked it under Daryn’s arm. The little boy made no indication that he noticed as he continued to snooze. 

Black Bolt dressed and messaged the current domo on duty to let him know he would head straight to New Attilan to continue the search for Maeve rather than stop in the bar. Flagman would be in during the busiest part of the day and into the early evening, so the bar was in good hands. It felt so disingenuous to worry about the bar when his niece was missing, and Black Bolt hated that he could not close the bar until Maeve was located. Too many in New Attilan, as well as his own family, depended on the revenue from the bar to survive.

He called for Lockjaw to teleport him to New Attilan, leaving Medusa and the twins behind. Daryn would sleep soundly for the next few hours while Anora did her schoolwork. They would switch whenever Daryn woke, with Anora having free time while Medusa worked with Daryn to catch him up. Over the last day or two, the twins’ behaviors at the infirmary grew increasingly unruly so Medusa made the decision to keep them at home.

Lockjaw brought Black Bolt to the infirmary so he could check on his oldest son. Ahura was sitting upright once again, slowly working through a bowl of oatmeal with the spoon that Rila bent for him. Irelle sat at the foot of the bed and did not notice Black Bolt’s entrance until Ahura nodded at his father. The young woman turned around and immediately stood when she saw the king.

_Sit,_ Black Bolt gestured. Family did not typically stand when other members of the royal family entered, and after eight years of steady courtship, Irelle might as well be family. _Son, are you well?_

Ahura slowly nodded, not wanting to worsen the ache in his throat. Many of the lighter bruises faded but the deepest splotches remained, which Black Bolt guessed were the thumb prints based on their position across Ahura’s trachea. 

“Vinatos checked the surgical site a few minutes ago and it is healing well, your highness,” Irelle spoke and signed at the same time. The line of stitches across Ahura’s rib was nowhere near as swollen and puffy as the day immediately following surgery. The stitches would likely come out within the week.

Black Bolt ruffled his son’s bangs and briefly touched his forehead to Ahura’s, prompting an exaggerated face of disgust from Ahura. Irelle and Black Bolt knew he was being facetious and merely posturing, Ahura did not mind the moment of affection. 

_I will be in security if you need anything._

Ahura nodded once again and resumed scooping at his oatmeal when Black Bolt turned and made his way through the maze-like hallways leading to security. Gorgon met him at the hallway leading to the door and walked with him the remainder of the way.

“We’ve narrowed down a second location; it appears that Maximus is attempting to reach the Canadian border,” Gorgon mused. “We will find him and bring the girl home. I swear on my name, my lord.”

To swear on the name of Petragon was important to Gorgon, as it meant he was, by extension, swearing on his connection to the Boltagon lineage. When the current generation of the royal family chose their last names, Gorgon wanted to acknowledge his loyalty to the line of Randac, hence the last name “Petragon.” In English, Gorgon’s last name meant “male of the house of Agon,” and if he were to fail in his mission, Gorgon would not only fail his own family but the Boltagon family as well.

Frank McGee, knowing fewer customs when being around royalty, did not stand as Black Bolt entered the security center (that, or more likely, Frank did not see the utility in it). He barely looked away from his screen, barking a quick “morning” as his only form of acknowledgement. Frank felt like he was close to a breakthrough after he narrowed his search area to a conical shape leading to the Canadian border patrol. Something about today _felt_ different, but Frank did not know what.

“The girl’s parents should arrive momentarily,” Gorgon said, catching Black Bolt up to speed. “Norm requested that he accompany us once we have a new location to search. I assume Verna wanted to help with Ahura.”

Black Bolt nodded and gestured by first covering his eyes, then drawing his fingers across his palm as if reading Braille. _Reader?_

“On his way. He’s taking his son somewhere first, some type of detention center for children.”

“Daycare,” grunted Frank. He barely slowed in his typing, stopping only once he felt the need to rub his eyes. Frank hardly slept through the night, only about two hours collectively. “So I have a map of every hotel between the previous location and the nearest accessible entrances into Canada. My guess is he will try to mind control his way across the border since he does not have a passport or identification on him.”

“I’m surprised he is able to move as quickly as he is doing so,” Gorgon mused. “To keep the girl pliant as well as control the various humans he’s encountered must be exhausting. Once we find him, he will be easier to contain, if anything.”

Maximus was a plague to Inhumanity, according to Gorgon. If Gorgon had his way he would have Maximus executed and the remains burned to ash so there was no hope of resurrection. He was not alone in his thinking, however; Agon would’ve likely destroyed Maximus long ago if he were still king. Whatever Black Bolt saw in his younger brother must be redeemable, as no one else could figure out what it was. 

Norm approached the security room and knocked on the doorframe, his eyes red and puffy behind his thick glasses. Black Bolt could not tell if the puffiness was due to tears or a lack of sleep, likely both. “Good morning, everyone doing alright?”

“Hmph,” grunted Frank. “I’ve contacted a few of the main precincts in my search area. They’ll send out officers to each of the hotels to visually verify the occupants. If they’re staying at any of the hotels on my list, the officers’ body cams will pick them up. And since the camera footage is stored remotely, Maximus won’t be able to erase it easily.”

Frank did not want to entertain the fact that he could be totally erroneous in his assumption. It was possible that Maximus abandoned his plan and moved south, or hopped on a plane to the other side of the planet. Frank never said so aloud, but it was a nagging fear in his mind. He lifted his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, causing a bright yellow glare to reflect off the screen. He would need a break soon, maybe stretch out his back and make a quick stop at his apartment for coffee or something to wake himself up. 

Frank spun around in the chair and stood to stretch out his shoulders. Staying hunched over a computer for hours made his back and neck sore—how either of his daughters stayed in that position over their phones, he would never figure out. “You know, we haven’t really talked about how we are going to subdue Maximus. Or contain him, once we catch him.”

“Medical sedation worked the last time he was imprisoned.” Gorgon crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his hoof in thought.

Black Bolt held up a fist and pinched two fingers around his wrist with the other hand, as if making a bracelet. Gorgon was still unsure of the meaning, so Black Bolt turned to Norm for help. “ _He’s wearing a medicinal bracelet, like the one he wore as a worker._ ”

Norm thought about Black Bolt’s meaning, then suddenly felt ill. He remembered allowing Maeve talk to someone at the train station who wore a bracelet of some kind, but Norm could not see the man’s face. He allowed Maximus to get close to Maeve without even realizing it.

Before Black Bolt could ask why Norm suddenly seemed pale, the group heard Verna calling for Norm from down the hall. Her near-panicked voice echoed throughout as she called for her husband. “Norm? Norm, where are you?”

Briefly, Black Bolt worried that something happened to Ahura since Verna was just in the infirmary. As Verna rounded the corner, he could see her phone in her hand. 

“Honey? I’m right here, what’s-“

“She’s on the phone, it’s Maeve!” Verna nearly dropped the phone due to her shaking hands as she struggled to put the device on speakerphone.

“Maeve? Hello?”

“ _Daddy?_ ”

Everyone in the room immediately crammed around the phone, which Norm was grateful for as he felt like he would black out from relief. “Maeve?! Baby, where are you? Are you safe? Tell me where you are.”

“ _I wanna come home,_ ” Maeve whined, sniffling into the phone. “ _Will you and mommy come get me?_ ”

“Yes, baby, just tell me where you are.”

In the background, Norm could hear the gruff voice of Maximus say something about stationary and an address. Verna buried her face into Norm’s shoulder to keep from audibly crying. Some shuffling could be heard, then Maeve picked up the phone again. “ _This thing on the desk says 1630 Central Avenue, in Albany. And the key says six._ ”

Black Bolt snapped his fingers at Frank, who immediately turned back to his computer and punched in the address. A moment later and the address appeared in the cone he created of possible locations. With the address found, Black Bolt mentally called for Lockjaw and motioned for Gorgon and Frank to touch Lockjaw’s shoulder. 

Norm held the phone closer since only he and Verna were listening now. “Stay right where you are, honey, we’re coming to get you,” Verna called into the phone. She tried her best to keep her voice from wavering, not wanting to panic her little girl. “Are you hurt?”

“ _No, I just wanna go home-_ ”

As soon as Lockjaw teleported away with Black Bolt, Gorgon, and Frank, a brief commotion came on the other end of the phone. Maeve dropped the handset and practically screamed for her ‘Uncle B’ as Gorgon and Frank tackled Maximus. All of this could be heard over the phone, leaving Norm and Verna to stand in the middle of the room listening to it unfold.

Apart from the initial commotion, it did not sound like Maximus put up much of a fight. They could hear Maeve cry into Black Bolt’s shoulder and Lockjaw growl at someone, presumably Maximus, and then silence from the other end of the phone. The sound of Lockjaw sifting back into view with the rest of the group in tow caused Verna to drop the phone and rush toward them, pulling Maeve from Black Bolt’s arms. Maeve was caught off guard for a moment as she kept her face covered during the teleportation, but as soon as she saw Verna her sobs grew louder. 

“Mommy? Mommy, I was so scared!”

Norm wrapped his wife and his daughter in a tight hug, alternating between squeezing them both and looking into Maeve’s face to see if she were hurt in any way. “I know, baby, I know you were so scared. Thank the Lord you’re home.”

“You’re safe now, monkey, I promise,” Norm said, his glasses fogged with tears. Verna shifted so Maeve could lean towards her father, Norm taking his little girl into his arms. “We’re here, mommy and daddy are here.”

With her hands no longer occupied, Verna strokes her daughter’s hair a few times and then let go, looking around the room. Gorgon and Frank held Maximus by his shoulders, though Maximus stood completely still. She inched her way over to Maximus and stood in front of him for a moment, looking into his eyes.

Then she hugged him.


	19. Epilogue

Maeve had a disgruntled scowl on her face as she trudged along with her parents, holding their hands. She was not happy about this.

“Mommy, Daddy, it's my birthday.” She whined. “Do I _have_  to go to lessons today?” She began dragging her feet, for once in no hurry to get to the Quiet Room.

Her parents exchanged looks over her head. “Yes, Maeve, you do.” Mommy said firmly. “Everyone's expecting you, you know that.”

“You don't want to disappoint them, do you?”

“No.” Maeve pouted. She didn't want to upset the twins, and Uncle B and Aunt Medusa and Papaw Agon if they wanted to see her- but she didn't want to do schoolwork on her birthday either! But by now, they were at the entrance to the bar, and her parents led her inside before she could say anything else. Flagman, who worked at the bar, was waiting just inside, looking very happy about something. He winked at her mom and dad, which only confused Maeve more- why did he look so excited? She noticed something else weird- there were no people here besides Flagman, her and her parents, and the lights were set on dim. There were shiny things she couldn't make out hanging from the ceiling too. The place being empty was weird, though. Normally, there were at least _some_  customers in the bar or the restaurant... She glanced around, puzzled, then noticed a sign above the bar. She squinted to read it. “'Closed for private event.' Mommy, what does that mean?”

All the lights suddenly came on brightly, making Maeve jump backwards.

“SURPRISE!” There was a deafening yell, coming from all over the place, and people were jumping into view from everywhere- behind the bar, from behind tables- everywhere. Anora and Daryn, grinning, were the first to run over to Maeve. “Happy Birthday, Mae!”

She blinked at them a couple of times, before she figured it out. The shiny things were brightly colored streamers, and there was a sparkly banner over the bar, with huge pink letters, that said Happy 7th Birthday. She squealed, nearly jumping up and down with excitement. “Is this for me?” She paused for a second, then, giggling, whirled to hug her parents. “You were tricking me!”

“We sure were, monkey.” Daddy tweaked her nose. “Couldn't spoil the surprise, after all the trouble everyone went to, could we?”

Beaming now, her bad mood forgotten, Maeve raced off to hug and thank everybody- the twins, Aunt Medusa and Uncle B, Papaw Agon, Ahura (finally free of his bandages and casts) and Irelle, who were holding hands, Aunt Crystal and Luna, Uncle Gorgon and his children, Alecto and Petras, Uncle Karnak and Uncle Triton, Frank McGee, Irelle's sister Treste, Reader, Rila and their little boy Gerry... she turned around so many times trying to spot everyone, not wanting to leave anybody out, that she made herself dizzy!

The twins seemed even more excited than she was, trailing after her, chattering excitedly about how they'd help set everything up and kept it secret. They fairly dragged her over to the _huge_  pile of presents heaped on the pool table, and even offered to help her open them. Maeve said no to that though- these were _her_  presents! Besides, the twins had just had their ninth birthday, not long ago, although they hadn't gotten a surprise party, they _had_  had presents.

When everything had been unwrapped (and the gift-givers thanked with more hugs and kisses, of course), Flagman, bowing and making her giggle, had announced he was escorting the birthday girl to her 'banquet' in the restaurant section of the bar, where an enormous buffet had been laid out, a mixture of human and Tilan foods, with something to please everyone. And in the centre of the display, was an enormous cake in the shape of the number 7, coloured with white icing and pink sprinkles.

When everyone had eaten to their heart's content (and, of course, 'Happy Birthday' had been sung, with Mommy, Daddy and Frank prompting the Inhuman members of the family who didn't know the song), the cake was soon reduced to crumbs. Except for one slice, which Maeve noticed Uncle B putting aside. She frowned, about to ask who that piece was for, but Petras, Gorgon's son, tugged her into a game of Tag with Anora, Daryn and little Gerry, and she soon forgot about it. Tag turned into Hide and Seek, then they played 'The floor is lava', after Maeve had explained how the game worked. By this point, most of the adults had formed small groups, talking about boring grown-up stuff, but Maeve was so busy playing, she didn't mind.

Then the low steady hum of chatter faltered. She and her cousins and friends, in the midst of a round of 'The floor is lava', shrieking with laughter, were the last to notice, but eventually they looked up.

Max was slowly walking towards them, clutching a small flat parcel to his chest nervously. Muttering followed in his wake and he paused, looking unsure. Maeve saw Uncle B nod to him, but he didn't move until Maeve's mommy and daddy came and joined him, Daddy's hand on Max's shoulder as he said something too quiet for anyone but Max to hear. He nodded, swallowed hard, and stepped towards Maeve, arms extended.

The muttering from some of the other adults increased, but Maeve didn't care. After Max had let her go home, after taking her, six months ago now, Mommy and Daddy had sat down with her, and explained the truth: she had been born to another lady, named Mara, and Max was her first daddy, but Mara had died, and Max had been ill, so she'd been given to Mommy and Daddy. Max had taken her because he was still ill six months ago, and mixed up. She knew now he'd never meant to hurt or scare her, and she kind of liked having two families, like Ahura did. Since then, as Uncle B and Medusa had said Max was getting well, Maeve had been allowed to see him a couple of times, with Mommy or Daddy, or Uncle B or Papaw Agon there, and he'd said sorry, a lot, for frightening her, even though she didn't blame him- it wasn't his fault he was sick, was it? But he'd never shown up in front of others before. He looked pale and nervous, eyes darting round like he expected to be told to leave.

Maeve scampered over, smiling, not wanting him to feel sad- it was her birthday party, and she wanted everybody to be happy. “Hi, Max!” Without hesitation, she gave him a big hug, the same way she'd hugged everyone who'd come to the party. “Thanks for coming.”

He hugged her back, gently, like he thought she'd pull away. “Happy Birthday, Ona-Maeve.” He half whispered. Maeve giggled- she knew now that Ona was the name he'd picked for her, before she was born, but that Mara, her first mommy who was in Heaven now, had called her Maeve. Max used both names when they spoke in private, like a nickname, and it always made her laugh a bit, to have two names. She kissed Max's cheek then peeked down at the parcel he held, in silver paper. “Is that for me?”

Max blinked, then stared down at the parcel, as if he'd forgotten he held it. “Yes of course. Sorry.” He held it out to her, and she took it eagerly, ripping the paper off in a matter of seconds, gazing excitedly at her last present. It was an ornate metal photo frame, divided to hold three small photos- Maeve herself was in the main photo, and she remembered Ahura taking the picture, when she'd been laughing at something he'd said. The other two images in the frame were of grown ups- one of Mommy and Daddy, with their arms round each other, the other of Max and a pretty lady with brown hair, outside a cottage, in a garden, somewhere Maeve didn't recognize, both smiling and holding hands. Maeve slowly put a hand on the image of the brown haired lady's face. “Is that Mara?”

Max swallowed hard. “Yes. I thought you should have a picture of her, even though...” He trailed off, his eyes shining. Maeve's lip wobbled to see him so sad and she carefully handed Daddy the photo before throwing her arms round Max again.

“Thank you so much.” She smiled. “Now I have pictures of all my parents to watch over me.”

Max sniffled a bit himself, his face pressed to her hair. “That's right, princess. You'll always have two families to love you.”

Maeve nodded, giving him another kiss on the cheek. “I love you too, Max.”

She stepped back, feeling a bit awkward, not knowing what to say now- then she realized almost everyone was staring at them- and a lot of people didn't look happy with Max. No-one was speaking now.

“We saved you a piece of cake, Uncle Max!” Anora called, running over to them, using her telekinetic powers to float the plate over too. Max took it from the air, smiling weakly now.

“Thank you.”

Daryn joined them, riding on Lockjaw's back, forcing Anora to skip out of the gargantuan dog's way. “Nora and I helped Mora make the cake.” Daryn proclaimed, puffing his chest out proudly.

“If by helped, you mean licked out the bowls and got flour everywhere.” Aunt Medusa shook her head, smiling, as she and Uncle B joined them, followed by Ahura and Irelle. Anora and Daryn shrugged unrepentantly, grinning. “So? It was yummy. And fun.”

Uncle B rolled his eyes, swatting good-naturedly at Anora, then Maeve yelped as someone lifted her up from behind. Twisting, she saw that it was Papaw holding her, and relaxed.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. His voice was thick when he spoke. “My youngest granddaughter, seven already... I don't know where the time's gone. It'll be great-grandchildren next!”

Maeve wasn't sure why Ahura and Irelle both went red and ducked their heads at this, but there was a ripple of laughter from the adults, so it couldn't be too bad. She laid her head on Papaw's shoulder, smiling at the sight of her whole family gathered round: Mommy and Daddy, Max, Uncle B and Aunt Medusa, Ahura, Irelle, Anora and Daryn, her and Papaw. She grinned. Her family was massive, but she loved every one of them. A verse she'd learned from the Bible, Psalm 133.1, came into her mind as she listened to her family talking, and she smiled, murmuring it to herself. “How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!” She snuggled closer to Papaw Agon, content to have all her family together on her birthday. She closed her eyes and pictured Mara watching them too, from Heaven. Maeve hoped she was happy as well, and that she would watch over them all until they could all be together again.

  
  


 


End file.
